


It Was A Slow Year

by SherlockMalfoy



Series: Iron Squib and Other Magical Tales [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Avenger Harry Potter, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Minor Romance, Past Relationships Mentioned - Freeform, minor OC deaths, various MCU cameos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-01-04 07:55:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18339392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockMalfoy/pseuds/SherlockMalfoy
Summary: In the year following the rest of the team learning Agent Grim's true identity things were... slow. Without the end of the world necessesitating the Avengers to assemble, they all went about their lives. Tony Stark works on a way to remove the arc reactor and shrapnel from his chest. Hermione Granger-Weasley starts delving into special research projects. Thor's still off who knows where, and with nowhere else to go Bruce lives and works in the Tower. Clint and Nat do what they do best and Harry? His freedom is dependent on his work with SHIELD and SHIELD has decided it has a use for him.Old friendships are rebuilt. New discoveries are made. And things are really great, really. Until they aren't.(picks up a day or two following "The Mysterious Agent Grim")





	1. Early 2013

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a one-shot, but it just kept going on longer so it'll be multi-chapter. And a minimum of 3. I'm shooting for about 6 though.
> 
> Timeline placement mid-late January 2013 - December 2013.  
> Assume Agents of Shield doesn't happen, but certain events SHIELD deals with off-screen/off-fic.
> 
> Summary Rating and Tags are likely to change as the story progresses.

Mr. Kline shook his head and sighed as the man across from him at least had the decency to look embarrassed.

"I thought at your advanced age and your exceptional record for getting the job done I wouldn't have the same problems that I do out of new recruits."

"In my defense-"

"And instead my entire caseload has been shoved off on others because I spend most of my time smoothing things over with SHIELD on your behalf."

"If you'd let me explain-"

"And now I'm told you got into a fist fight with the Hulk in the streets of New York City, doing... well, the damage assessment team is still trying to get an estimate on the costs. And performed unsanctioned magic, obliviations no less, on half the street!"

"Warren if you'd just-"

"HALF THE STREET HARRY!"

"HE WAS VERY CROSS WITH ME!"

" _CROSS?_! YOU CALL THAT _CROSS_?! WHAT THE HELL IS THE MONSTER LIKE WHEN HE'S _ **ANGRY**_?!"

In the next room, standing with his hands in his pockets was Tony. Next to him was Steve with his arms crossed. And on his other side was Coulson who was on the phone with... well, they weren't exactly sure.

"I wonder what they're shouting at each other about," Tony asked, watching as Harry slammed his hands on the table and stood up to start pacing. "Oh that can't be good."

"How can you be so calm about this?"

Tony turned towards Steve with a calculating look. "How come you're not? This is just some disciplinary thing. Slap on the wrist. A reminder not to do magic to innocent people that don't deserve it. And off he goes to play hero with the rest of the gang. But for some reason you're really tense. I can almost see the vein popping out of your meaty neck."

"I'm not discussing this with you."

"Oh? He's my cousin. I think if you talk to anyone it should be the one that knows him best."

"Cousin? He's old enough to be your father. Hell, he might be old enough to be mine."

"Nah. Don't get your star spangled panties in a bunch Cap. You're still the oldest person in the room. Just not the only geriatric." Tony said as the two men in the room on the other side of the one-way mirror kept screaming at each other. During the screaming match Harry pulled out his wand and slammed it on the table. Tony glanced out of the corner of his eye and noted it was his main wand. The holly one.

That couldn't be good.

Kline stood with his hand outstretched, but his words were lost to the silence of the spells the two men had put in place at the start.

Harry shook his head and shrugged. Kline repeated whatever it was. Harry's face twisted in anger before he nodded towards the wand he had already surrendered and stepped away from it. Kline took the wand and left the room.

The three men watched as Harry dropped into one of the chairs at the table and crossed his arms over his chest like a petulant child. The door to their own room opened and Kline sighed, holding the wand out to Tony, who took it without question. "He can have it back after his suspension is over."

Steve's face closed off as he assumed his official mantle as team leader. At least for the moment. "How long is he suspended from duty?"

"One month. Not that taking this will do any good since I know he has a spare. Hell, the man doesn't even need one all the time. But procedure must be followed."

"All of this because he got in a fist fight with the Hulk?"

"Among other things," Kline said, nodding towards the wand in Tony's hand. "I trust you can keep that locked away until then, Mr. Stark?" the squib nodded and slid it into his back pocket as he'd seen Harry do hundreds of times. "Well, that's all for me today. Just... try not to upset him too much. You know how volatile his magic gets when he's angry. He's like the Hulk in that regard."

"I know," Tony said. "The bastard nearly brought the house down back in '97 when he got into an argument with uncle Percival."

"You have an uncle named Percival? How big is the Stark family?"

"Oh, no, they're not Starks. They're Weasleys," Tony said with a wave of his hand as if that answered everything.

"So your mom's family then."

"It's complicated. Suffice to say that Howard did a lot of things he probably shouldn't have after you turned into a Capsicle." Then, he added as an afterthought, "If it wasn't the family home they probably would have let him. Percy's an idiot."

Coulson smiled. "But he's a useful idiot. He's the one that contacted SHIELD to suggest we bring Grim on board well before we started the Initiative. That was before my time but... it is what it is." He turned his attention to Mr. Kline. "Are we done here?"

"I'll show myself out," the man said. "Oh, and Phil, are we still on for that double date? Mariska's been nagging me for weeks about it."

"Cecilia's been looking forward to it. As long as no one blows up any major cities between now and next weekend-"

Tony whirled around, his attention on Coulson. "You're dating again? Double dates? Since when?"

"Since I married the cellist and we set her sister up on a blind date with Warren."

"You married her?!"

"Yes. We've been married for six months. You were invited to the ceremony. We enjoyed the honeymoon in Venice you gifted us. Pepper has good taste."

With Kline's departure and Coulson finishing up his call, Tony indicated the glass and the man sitting beyond it in absolute silence. "You want to get him or should I?"

"He's your cousin," Steve said. "I've got work to do. I'll see you back at the tower."

Without even another glance back, Steve left the two men in the observation room. "Well that's just fantastic. What the hell was that about?"

"What do you know about wizarding time travel, Mr. Stark?" Coulson asked him as the two men contemplated what to do with the man in the interrogation room.

The question circled Tony's thoughts a few times as he tried to recall everything he'd ever learned of the subject. Most of what he knew was from the family stories about his biological father's third year at Hogwarts. And a few times during the Second war against that snake guy. "No," he said suddenly. "No," he repeated.

Coulson gave a slight shrug. "According to the American magical government an unnamed WARD agent was sent back in time to recover a dangerous artifact and prevent the assassination of a prominent wartime public figure."

"Oh come on!

**o0o**

Captain Steve Rogers transferred to the Triskelion, otherwise known as SHIELD HQ, in DC a few days later.

Hawkeye took some time off and seemed to disappear. Nat went with him but came back after a week before going out on a solo mission.

Tony watched as his team seemed to be breaking apart. Bruce hung around, of course. He had nowhere else to go.

Who even knew where Thor was or if he'd ever come back.

And Harry?... Harry was a miserable bastard that could be found haunting the magical side of New York getting into barroom brawls left and right.

The last time Tony had seen him in person during his month suspension the man had come dragging a Dementor corpse behind him with Hermione on his heels. The two sealed themselves into one of the labs on the research level.

When he wasn't off drinking and fighting, he was breaking equipment in the training rooms.

But the moment his suspension was over it was like the man had been replaced with an entirely different person. Gone were the bags under his eyes and the aroma of stale beer and barroom smoke that clung to him like a second skin. In it's place was someone Tony didn't think he'd ever actually met before, and had only known from stories told over mugs of hot chocolate and trays of fresh baked Christmas cookies.

Back in the tower between field assignments, Tony observed that Harry was polite and friendly. More open than he had been as the mysterious Agent Grim, but much more closed off than he knew the man to be in his normal-ish life. It was like watching him put on a mask and play a part every day that he saw him, knowing he would return to his rooms and strip it away in private.

Though around Bruce he was a lot more jovial, the two getting along quite well once Harry had explained in his own words to the remaining residents of the tower why he'd had to pretend to be dead.

Tony let him keep pretending like he was fine, knowing he really wasn't. As long as he got the job done at the end of the day, that's all he cared about. Besides, he had his own problems to be getting on with.

Like finally getting that damn reactor out of his chest...

  **o0o**

When SHIELD requested Hermione's assistance with a project in DC, it was Pepper that suggested Harry escort her. When he tried to find excuses against the idea she had pointed out that if not for Harry then Hermione would never be involved in the Avengers nor their parent organization. That and his reputation would go a long way to making sure no one got on the older witch's bad side. In reality Tony had mentioned how out of sorts Harry seemed to be, and Pepper thought that maybe some time away with his best friend might help him figure things out.

It also helped that he was basically her ticket into anywhere she wanted to go once she got there.

After getting her clearance and setting off on her own for a meeting, Harry found himself wandering about. He'd been to DC a few times in the past. And aside from apparating directly into a broom closet across the hall from Coulson's office at the Triskelion, none since his sojourn into 1943. So this particular trip gave him the opportunity to do something he'd wanted to do for a few years now.

But first, he had a very important visit to make. If only he could find the bloody address for the care home...

**o0o**

Hermione Granger-Weasley always loved a good mystery. When she had been asked by Mr. Coulson if she would come to DC and examine a peculiar case of magic for SHIELD, well, she couldn't exactly pass it up. After jumping through all the hoops and hurtles that were security clearance and proper identity registration, she was at last escorted to an office.

An office that had been described to her many times by Harry over the phone or through their communication mirrors after a long mission with the Avengers. That was, before she and Ron had given the house to the kids and moved permanently out to New York. Because of course they did. They couldn't leave Harry to his own devices. He'd never stay out of trouble.

Regardless, the office was as plain and stripped down as Harry had described to her time and again. It had very little in the way of personal affects, but just enough to show that the room did get frequent use by someone at least.

"Mrs. Weasley-"

"Dr. Granger-Weasley," she corrected him without thinking. "Mr. Coulson," she added with a smile.

"Of course. Have you had time to look over the paperwork we sent you?"

"Oh yes. I was going to work on this back in New York anyway. But to have direct access to the subject is... well, it's an academic's dream come true. When can I start?"

"The quinjet arrives from Honduras tonight. You can start first thing in the morning just after medical does their final checks."

"Perfect," she said. "And have you any additional materials for me to look over? Project notes? Journals? I know it's been quite a long time, but something had to have survived in the records."

A box was pulled out from under his desk and set on top. "These do not leave this office. I'm not supposed to have them."

"You'd have done quite well at Hogwarts, Mr. Coulson. You're very resourceful and sneaky," she replied, getting to her feet so she may pilfer through the contents of the box. "I've a feeling the Weasley Twins would have taken a great shine to you."

"I assume that's a compliment?"

She gave him a mischievous smile. "Depends on why they'd taken a shine, doesn't it?"

  **o0o**

Harry had taken the Smithsonian tour all about Captain America. He'd done it more out of curiosity than any other reason. He wanted to know how off the mark they might have been compared to the real man whom Harry had known. Both before and after the serum had changed him. That had been yesterday. Today offered him a different curiosity.

He sat at a table overlooking a quiet little corner of the nation's capitol. Much like back home in good old London, the entrance to the wizarding district of Washington DC was an out of the way place. _Martha's Coffee and Cakes_ \- named for the country's first First Lady - was the entrance to _Independence Square_. Off the Square, which was the main shopping hub, were three other forks. _Freedom Alley_ was mostly residential. _Legacy's Landing_ was another shopping district and was renamed thus when it was expanded in the mid 1800's. It had originally been named _Colonial Cross_ and was the original site of the area's first wizarding community. On that street were some restaurants and a few law offices that had been there since the community had been first established. The third fork off Independence Square was simply called _The Railway_. It housed a rail station, shipping warehouses, a few factories and furniture outlets from what Harry could gather. All of this was found in the tourist map and book he'd acquired from the lovely manager of _Martha's_.

The odd thing about any entrance to the wizarding world is that it can only be seen or noticed by those with a touch of magic. Witches and wizards, mostly. But some muggles that had been turned into were-creatures or vampires could also spot them. Certainly Tony Stark could likely find his way into one easily since he was a squib. Though he tended to avoid them when he could lest the general public find out about even more dirty family secrets.

So it was quite a surprise when Harry looked up from the tourist booklet he had gotten with his dinner to see...

"Steven?"

"Harry."

"What- How-" Harry cleared his throat and straightened up in his seat, closing the booklet and setting it next to his half-eaten sandwich. "I mean, please, have a seat." He tried to smile as pleasantly as he could, given that the last time they'd spoken his identity had come out and then Harry had puked all over Bruce's shoes. Thankfully the man was too drunk to care and the Hulk was too glad to have his little wizard friend back to really be that angry about it.

"It **is** Harry, right?" Steve said once he'd settled down in his seat. His packet of chips, a tuna sandwich, and a cold can of cola was set out before him. "That at least wasn't a lie?"

Harry picked at the bread of his sandwich. "No, that wasn't a lie. My name really is Harry. And nearly everything I told you over that time was the truth."

Steve popped the seal on his cola, but didn't drink it yet. "I'll admit, when I saw you through the window, I didn't really think this through."

"And when I learned I was going to be assigned to your team, I didn't think through it fully either," he said. "Though I had hoped that you wouldn't remember as much as you clearly do."

The remainder of the evening was awkward and the conversation stilted. Harry did most of the talking, as Steve had wanted answers - though he didn't quite believe some of them - and Harry had wanted nothing more than his forgiveness for his deceit both past and present. Before parting ways, they exchanged phone numbers with tentative plans to meet back up before Harry returned to New York.

How Steve was even able to see the entrance to Wizarding DC, let alone through the window of the establishment meant to safeguard the entrance against muggles... Harry had forgotten to ask.

"I didn't know Captain America was a squib," the waitress said once Steve had gone and was busing Harry's table.

"He's not," he said. "He's a no-maj."

"Huh..." she said, tucking the cleaning rag into the corner of her small bin. "Never had one of them wandering in on their own before. Then again, he's an Avenger. Who knows what those folks can and can't do." She gave a smile and a nod to Harry before leaving him be.

  **o0o**

Harry stopped by the hotel bar when he got back, picked up a couple of beers to take upstairs, and then changed into a pair of sweatpants.

He was texting back and forth with Bruce to kill some time before the movie he wanted to see was due to come on, so he hadn't even noticed when Hermione had come back until she rested her chin on the top of his head. To his credit, the only reason he didn't turn around and pin her to the floor was because he could smell her very distinctive perfume when she did.

"You really need to stop doing that," he said, tilting his head and forcing her to stand up straight. "One of these days I'm going to accidentally break your arm or something."

"And then when I'm done cursing you I'll reset the arm and fix it myself," she said in a tired, bored tone. "Do you have another one of those?" She pointed to the bottle.

"Fridge," he said. He sat listening to the familiar sounds of his best friend shuffling about in the space around him. The thunk of her heels as they hit the carpet beside the sofa to his left. The sigh of relief as she sat in the corner of the sofa and pulled her legs up onto the cushions.

"Merlin I'm exhausted. I haven't done that much research since first year."

"Oh?" Harry's tone was one of feigned interest as he scrolled through an article Bruce sent him along with the question 'magic or science?'

Hermione hummed around a mouthful of beer and wiggled her stocking covered toes. "So I've told you my theory about your friend Steve right? About the protection spells I know you cast but you won't fess up to..."

Harry didn't respond, but did incline his head towards her to show he was listening.

"Yesterday, Mr. Coulson was so kind as to get me everything he could find on the super soldier project. I spent my day cross referencing against my own notes from the war as well as having to read theory after theory in handwriting that is far worse than your own. And that was after I spent over three hours working on cracking a cipher Mr. Stark created to cloak his work from the Nazis."

"Is this going anywhere 'Mione or are you just going to lecture me as if I were a student in a theory course I don't even care about? Again?"

She smiled deviously and waited for him to take a large gulp of his drink before speaking. "Did you know that the process nearly killed him, however the protective magic you placed on him came to life and turned inward to protect him from the harmful effects of the serum's activation with the vita-waves?"

"What?"

"Essentially the super soldier process forced the magic you placed on him to merge with his body to keep him alive. At least that's my current hypothesis. I won't know for sure until I give him a more in-depth examination than I did after his debriefing today."

Harry choked on his beer and dropped his phone.

Hermione sighed, sipped her drink, and summoned the remote control to watch a bit of television as she waited for Harry to return to consciousness after his brief brush with death via choking.

When he did finally come to, he bewilderingly exclaimed, "Why didn't he tell me he'd seen you today?!"

**o0o**

Steve and Harry met up once more before the wizard had to return to New York, leaving Hermione behind to continue her research a little while longer. Honestly it could have gone better, with Steve managing to nag a promise out of Harry that he won't lie to the man ever again.

Harry of course had his fingers crossed in his pocket and worded his promise very carefully just in case Magic decided to make him live up to his word out of pure spite.

Despite Harry's burning desire to inquire about Steve's brief meeting with Hermione before crossing Harry's path again, he didn't ask. He knew the man couldn't say a word due to Hermione's penchant for particularly nasty spells to ensure people kept their silence and confidentiality. He didn't want Steve to break out in hives or something trying to answer the question. So he settled for what scraps he could get out of his friend instead.

Though the day wasn't entirely unpleasant. They had agreed to meet outside Martha's, since they were now both familiar with it and Steve could clearly see magical places that otherwise should have been hidden from him. They had a very early breakfast before Harry cast glamours on both of them, explaining to Steve it was to make sure they were left alone and unbothered by anyone wanting to meet celebrities... He didn't want to explain the real reason - his not-exactly welcome status where they were going for the day.

The only warning Steve got about travel by international flue was "Take a deep breath and hold it until we're out the other side. And don't let go of my arm or you'll likely end up somewhere unpleasant."

When the pair of them tumbled out of the flue at the Leaky Cauldron, Steve landing on top of Harry and the pair of them making an awkward lump.

After allowing himself to be helped to his feet, he brushed himself off. "Well that could have gone better," he'd mumbled as the barkeep, one of Tom's sprogs, had rushed over to welcome them.

"Won't be staying, love," Harry had said. "Just taking my yank cousin out on a day trip while he's visiting. Never been to the Alley before."

After promising to return for lunch, an empty promise if there ever was one, the pair set off for the back courtyard. "Do you really travel like that all the time?"

"Me? Nah. Never could get the hang of the bloody flues. I usually apperate everywhere - that thundery thing I do when I just appear places. Or a portkey. That's.... I'll explain that another time. We've got about six hours before either of us need to be back in DC."

"So why didn't we use a-"

"Because portkeys are... well... you see.... Look, I'll explain it later. I'm trying to do something nice here. You and Bucky welcomed me into your world, so... I thought..." Harry took a deep breath, then his drew wand and turned to a brick wall. He tapped at the bricks in quick order. He took a step back so Steve could clearly see the wall opening into the old medieval street. "It's no Brooklyn but... It's home. Now stay close and if anyone asks our names are Steve and Oliver Pennyworth. We're step-brothers, I'm a half-blood and you're muggleborn and we're cousins of the Warren family, Canadian branch."

"Is that a big deal here?"

"One of the downsides. Now come on! There's so much to show you and we've only got about six hours."

By the time they'd finished the day, Steve had been the recipient of a book on magical history (outdated compared to the books one could buy in America; but it was the new edition circa 1978), a 'toy wand' to go with his disguise courtesy of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, a copy of The Daily Prophet for the day, three pieces of wizarding money (a galleon, a sickle, and a knut) and a bowl of ice cream at Fortescue’s - vanilla with caramel sauce.

The super soldier was better prepared for the return trip by international flue than he was the first time. It still didn't stop him from tumbling out and landing on top of Harry for the second time that day.

 

o0o

 

"You took him WHERE?!" were words so powerful they broke the silencing charms that had been put into place on the room before the meeting had started. Anyone out in the corridor passing by heard the normally reserved Agent Coulson shouting. Those who had worked with him long enough knew to scatter because it never ended well when Coulson yelled at someone. Those who didn't... well... clearly they hadn't had the pleasure of seeing the man angry.

Inside the office however, was a man who HAD seen Phil Coulson angry only once before. And another who hadn't and was curious where this might be leading.

"Diagon Alley," Harry said meekly. "It was just a day trip, and I promise you we wore disguises. No one recognized us-"

"Everyone knows what your wands look like!"

"I only used it the once! And only to open up the back wall of the Leakey’s courtyard. Only Steven saw me."

"And how did you even get there?!" Mr. Kline exclaimed. "Long distance apparition for you is easy when you're alone, but I've seen you after taking someone overseas on a side-along. It wipes you out."

"Flue?" Harry supplied cautiously. "I thought it was safest and-"

"Are you insane?! Taking a no-maj through the flue-"

"Hey! He's not a no-maj anymore! I knew he could handle it!"

Coulson shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest as he stared down at the wizard sitting before him. "You're an idiot."

"Believe me, I know."

"Do you want to go back to prison?" Coulson asked him sternly. "Because this is how you go back to prison."

"No I don't- look. It was irresponsible and reckless of me. But that's who I am. I mean for fuck's sake when I was a child I fought a goddamn war with only two spells I could do absolutely perfect. Neither of which were in any way lethal. That's like trying to face all of Hydra with a goddamn plastic spoon!"

Coulson raised a brow, but he was clearly not amused. "Are you done, Mr. Potter?"

"No, I'm not. While I'm at it..."

Outside the office those who chose to stick around and snoop were discussing among themselves as to why the usually quite pleasant Agent Coulson was so angry. Speculation started, and rumours were already leaving the corridor until rather suddenly the door was thrown open and out stormed Agent Grim with his hood down and his rather handsome face twisted in a scowl.

"Agent Grim! Get back in here! We aren't done yet!" the cluster of SHIELD employees heard before Grim turned around and shouted angrily back, "And you can tell Fury to fuck right off too!"

By the end of the day in the Triskellion, rumor was that Agent Grim was put back on suspension for threatening Director Fury after bewitching and kidnapping Captain America. And that was just one of a great number of them that were circulating the gossip mill.

Harry had returned to New York immediately after leaving Coulson and his handler in the office. Steve on the other hand...

When Natasha saw him in one of the weight rooms, the one Steve always used because they had started stocking more replacement punching bags after he kept breaking them, the latest rumor to reach her ears was...

"So Steve I heard Grim put you under an evil spell and had you riding broomsticks around Central Park this morning before going and having tea with the Queen."

There was a crack. A snap. And the sudden pouring of sawdust and sand.

Steve sighed, shook out his hand, and went to get a broom and another punching bag.

 

**o0o**

 

"All I'm saying is," Tony said over the coms before firing off another round of repulsar fire towards the robots. "With the advancements Hermione and I have made with the magic resistant tech, there's no reason why-" Another round of fire.

Twisting metal sounded behind him before a lump of steel and tubing fell to the ground below from behind him.

"Are you bloody kidding?! It could kill you!"

"Choking on a bagel can kill me."

Crunch. Whirr.

Tony dove beneath a large buzz-saw blade. "We can get all the shrapnel out now that the machines won't explode the moment a healer uses magic to pull them out!"

"And nick your goddamn arteries!"

"Why am I even arguing with you? You're the guy that forgets he's practically a magical god on a daily basis!"

"I was raised muggle remember! Just because I have magic!" Another robot short circuited when Harry flung out an aguamenti just for his own amusement. "Doesn't mean I have to use it for everything!"

There was laughter over the coms channel. Rhodey couldn't help it. "If you two are done, there's still the big metal Godzilla still stomping around off the coast of Martha's Vineyard. Unless, you know, the robot minions weren't a dead giveaway."

There was a gruff sound of general agreement from Harry's end. "Do you need a flying tank or a walking bomb?"

"Which is which? It's hard to tell anymore with you two."

Tony feigned offense. Harry gave a hearty laugh. "Go on. I'll mop up here and meet you at the robot monster."

**o0o**

Ron had stopped like everyone else to watch the large screen in Time's Square. Hermione tugged at his arm insistently, but he stood resolute. "Look," he said, pointing up.

His wife followed his line of sight to the large screen above. She gasped before covering her mouth. The video was shaky, the cameraman clearly didn't want to be there. But the reporter - a real go-getter type, was urging him along through the wreckage that was Martha's Vineyard. Behind her, robotic soldiers were exploding, their heads popping off like cheap toys as a figure in black battle robes moved with the fluidity of a dancer - or a well trained fighter. The camera was pointed towards the sky, where two suits of armor zig-zagged around, trying to blast the largest of them.

"It's the Avengers!" someone shouted nearby as the quinjet streaked across the shot. The large robot monster staggered as a large, solid green mass slammed down upon it's back. A mostly-blue blur preceded the clang of metal meeting metal before the figure in black was joined by two more.

"Y'know," Ron said thoughtfully. "With all that metal, they could really use Thor about now. Wonder where he buggered off to."


	2. Summer 2013

Since returning from the dead and getting his first - and so far only - suspension from duty with the Avengers team, Harry had actually done rather well. A few reckless slip ups (the trip to England with Steve was never repeated... though he was inspired by the rumours to take him, Clint, Tony, and Ron out to a field to race brooms against the Iron Man armor), but other than that he was a model agent. His reports were still in their archaic hard-copy scroll form for secrecy's sake, and he still mouthed off at Coulson and even Director Fury when he felt he was in the right, but his handwriting became a bit clearer. And he was a lot nicer to other agents.

And despite it making his skin crawl to do so, he even agreed to do some positive PR stunts with the team.

Bruce noticed the only time Harry didn’t argue with any public relations obligations was when it involved children. The needier they were, the more amenable Harry was. Going so far as to spend extra time at any orphanage or children’s hospital that he ended up visiting. The man even took great care to wear colorful child-friendly masks during those trips so he wouldn’t scare any of them.

Though he drew the line at Tony's idea for an Avengers Swimsuit Calendar (even if he did get to wear a fancy Mardis Gras mask).

He even went out of his way to help with rebuilding efforts when he had free time and the Avengers left debris behind. Though, he did it in his civilian persona rather than as a member of the team. Large chunks of money started changing hands before Tony even had time to write a check to cover damages. Always anonymous and nearly always places like apartments and neighborhoods. Places with lots of families - and children.

The point was, Harry had gone out of his way to be a more pleasant co-worker, teammate, and SHIELD agent, and all around good person. After all, it was part of the reason he was sprung from Azkaban and assigned to SHIELD. He was supposed to be a representative of the Wizarding World. Someone to show them magic could be used for the good of all - rather than Loki and his failed attempt at world domination.

So when he was handed new marching orders that pulled him away from such duties... he wasn't exactly thrilled. It felt more like punishment detail than a sort-of maybe promotion. It wasn't that he was incapable. Quite the contrary - he had proven his ability to be a leader time and again in his long and unconventional life. He just didn't want the added responsibility.

He looked up from the paper, balled it up, tossed it into the trash can to the side of the desk before silently setting the entire contents on fire. It was a personal quiet protest.

"They told me you wouldn't be happy about it," the pencil pusher said as she reached for the fire extinguisher. "I didn't expect you to try and burn the place down!"

"You understand this is pure bullshit, right?"

"Don't be mad at me. I just give out the assignments when the big guys are out of the office." She gave him a false smile. "Need I remind you, Agent Grim, that your freedom wholly depends on your cooperation with SHIELD. Should you refuse any assignments or orders given to you, your freedom and independence are forfeit and you will be returned to the penal island of Azkaban."

By the time Harry had left, he'd told her he would return bright and early August first for his assignment. But until then not to bother him unless the world is literally collapsing around them. And given the murderous look in his eyes at the time she was very much inclined to agree.

**o0o**

Steve wasn't exactly thrilled to be the subject of someone's research no matter how well he liked the researcher. And he did like Hermione. She was respectful and didn't treat him any different from anyone else. She also understood how important it was for him not to be reminded every time he turned around that he was in a world out of his own time. Her age - though technically younger than himself - was also a factor. She appeared older than him and if there was one thing Mrs. Rogers instilled in a young Steve as he grew up it was to always respect your elders. Unless of course what they were doing was absolutely crazy and would get people hurt. Then he could sass back a little.

He also liked that Hermione would explain to him exactly what it was she needed for him to do and then follow that up with why. She answered his questions, even if she didn't know the answer and would admit to not knowing. Though she’d grimace as she did so as if it were some great and terrible thing to admit.

But that still did not change the fact that being poked, prodded, and now chanted over, was not generally a pleasant experience and it tended to put him in a foul mood.

A foul mood that had no problem trying to steamroll over Harry when his head popped in the doorway of the locker room before Steve had a chance to change into his workout gear. "Fancy a trip out of this madhouse for lunch, Steven?"

"Can't you see I'm in the middle of something here?"

"I'll take that as a no then," Harry replied, giving a small, tight smile and a nod. "Do you know if Natasha is around by chance then? I'm thinking of taking trip out to Malibu for the afternoon and-"

"Were you always this annoying?"

"Only when I really want something."

"Harry-"

"Not like that you moron. I mean, yes, obviously. But that'll never happen in a million years. Come on, it's just one lunch. And maybe a walk-about. I'm feeling nostalgic."

Steve sighed. "You're not going to leave me alone until I agree to lunch, are you?"

"Exactly."

"And you can't bother Hermione?"

"She's the reason I'm bothering you. She forgot what day it was and decided research was far more important than our scheduled lunch date."

"Give me an hour."

Harry's entire demeanor brightened. He was like a kid on Christmas seeing what Santa had left for him the night before. "Thanks! I'll meet you at Martha’s."

**o0o**

Natasha and Clint watched on the monitors as Dr. Granger-Weasley rearranged the office she'd been given at the Triskelion for the sole purpose of examining the curious case of Captain Steve Rogers. It wasn't the first time they'd snooped in on her, and it wouldn't be the last. Though admittedly no matter what they tried, they couldn't get the feeds to work while she held her consultations with him. Or with two other far lower level agents they'd seen visiting her office in the last few weeks.

Clint had tried to crawl through the vents for a closer look, but he was only able to see and not hear anything. Lip reading through a vent was a pain and only worked if the person speaking were actually facing the vent.

"Wish we could zoom while watching in real time," Clint said.

Natasha nodded. "She writes everything in a cipher. And never the same one twice. She's more paranoid than Stark. Maybe more than Fury."

"No one alive is more paranoid than Fury."

They watched as Dr. Granger-Weasley stood back from her wall of charts and notations, consulting an old journal to the side. "Hey, look there," Clint said, leaning forward to point at a diagram near the right corner of the screen. "Can you rotate the camera angle to get a better shot of that?"

"No. It's fixed. She did something to it when she moved in."

"Damn," Clint said, but did not sit normally. "It looks like one of those color charts those TV psychics used to use."

Natasha's shoulders shook only slightly as she held her laughter in. "Have you seen some of what Grim brings out of his quarters? Last month I saw him wandering the tower with a bag of rocks, hiding them in corners and-"

"And the vents! He put those there?"

She nodded.

"My kids pet rock collections are huge now thanks to him."

The door to Dr. Granger-Weasley's office opened and another low ranking SHIELD employee walked into the room. The screen for her office turned to static. And so the two agents turned their attention to another set of screens.

Clint sat back and pulled a duffel bag out from under his chair. Natasha rolled her eyes as he rummaged around in it. "You know we're actually supposed to be working, right?"

"And?" he asked, straightening up in his seat with two bottles of coke and a bag of chips.

"And you need to take this seriously, Clint."

"I'll take it seriously when the soap opera on floor 27 goes into reruns." He struggled a moment with his chips. When it finally gave way, the bag ripped, scattering salty, greasy crispy potatoes all over the surveillance room. Natasha sighed, shook her head, and reached for the bag. Hopefully he had more than cokes and junk food inside.

**o0o**

He stood out on the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets, watching the busy crowd inside before uttering a quiet cooling charm on himself and checking his watch. Nearly two hours had passed since his arrival.

By the two hour and twenty minutes mark he had turned to leave, intending to apparate back to his apartment in Brooklyn before he heard his friend call out to him. He turned to see Steve jogging up the sidewalk, not even breaking a sweat. "Hey!"

"You were supposed to be here over an hour ago."

"Two hours," Steve replied back. "And I know. I'm sorry. Some of the new recruits asked me to show them some moves and-"

"And you're lucky it's my birthday otherwise I'd have petrified you by now and left you here."

"It's your birthday?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, it's my birthday. I threaten you and THAT is what you latch onto." He shook his head with an exasperated smile. He couldn't stay mad at the man if he wanted to. "Come on. I'm dying for a burger from that diner we used to go to."

"We're not going to use the fireplace again are we?"

"No. I sort of stole another sling ring from an associate last week. A hell of a lot better way to travel than what I've been doing. Just got to nip into the alley to use it. Last thing I need is people hounding me for more unrestricted travel."

"Do you ever do anything that isn't against-"

"Steven, when I was 11 I inherited a cloak that made me invisible and I smuggled a dangerous baby dragon through a school full of sleeping children. I also used it to seek out a forbidden corridor that I was explicitly told would lead to my certain death," he said, leading the way around to the side of the building. "Rules aren't even guidelines for me at this point."

"Then what the heck are you doing working for SHIELD?"

"Beats the alternative," he quipped, raising his hands to open the portal and focusing on where he wanted it to open up. When it did, Steve recognized the other side from when Grim had fought with Tony and ran off through another shining golden portal for a while. It was-

"Is that your apartment in the Tower?"

"Merlin no. The last thing I want today is for Tony to butt his nose in my business. No, that's my place in Brooklyn. Come on, I'll give you the tour if you like before we head out."

**o0o**

"How did he take it?" Agent Coulson asked, setting his briefcase on the desk as the woman was filling him in on everything over the week.

"He didn't destroy my office," she said. "But he was very angry about it."

"That's to be expected. Anything else?"

"I kept an eye on Dr. Granger-Weasley like you asked. She frequently disappeared into your office for hours at a time-"

"She has clearance."

The woman nodded and tried to put on her best smile. "There is the matter of Strike Team Beta needing a new leader after... well... after Agent Lowry's turn to heel."

Coulson raised a brow. "Turned to heel, Agent Matthews?"

"I've been watching a lot of wrestling in my off time okay. It's better than saying he was a Hydra sleeper agent."

"Transfer Drake to Beta and Rumlow to Alpha. Anything else?"

"No, I believe that's everything," she said. "Though, could you tell Mr. Barton to be more careful when climbing in and out of my vents. I'm tired of replacing my potted plants. Last time he knocked over my peace lily and I nearly ripped his throat out for it."

He nodded with a chuckle. "Not very peaceful of you," he said before dismissing her. Once the door clicked shut behind her he opened his briefcase. He sorted through the files before he found what he was looking for. A battered and beaten book he had gotten on his trip to ICW Headquarters in Belfast with Mr. Kline. He had asked one of the witches Warren had introduced him to about what made Agent Grim so special, even among their kind. Miss Ollivander had rummaged through her desk and provided him with her own copy of the book. The one he now held in his hand. He settled back in his chair and opened the cover, reading the title.

He searched through the contents list, amused by some of the titles listed before he found what he was looking for. Quickly Phil turned to the page indicated and began to read.

_"Three brothers, traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight..."_

**o0o**

"Merlin I don't know how you can still walk after eating all of that!"

"I can't help it. The serum messes with my metabolism."

Harry laughed, turning and walking backwards with his hands in his pockets, a huge smile on his face. There was a huge ketchup stain on his shirt where he'd dropped his fries as Steve's fourth plate of burger and fries had arrived to the table. "You still didn't have to pay for lunch. I can more than afford it."

"It's your birthday. It's the least I could do."

"No, the least you could do is call me, shout _Happy Birthday_ into the phone before yelling at a robot assistant to stop spraying you with a fire extinguisher."

"He did that?!"

"Oh yeah," Harry said. "But it's still better than some of the birthdays he's bothered with. One year, not long after his parents... I think it was 89, maybe 90... He had cases of adult diapers sent to my place in London. Thankfully the muggles couldn't find my address. To them it just doesn't exist because someone skipped over it when they were numbering the street. So when I went out for work that morning my neighbors at Number 13 had cases and cases of the things in their front garden."

Steve had to stop and stare at him as he tried to imagine what that must have looked like. When it was clear Steve wasn't going to move, Harry stopped walking backwards and came back to join him. "Why would he do something like that?"

"Why does Tony do anything? He thought it was funny." Harry shrugged. "I did snag a case though and re-gifted it at Christmas to him. The card I sent with it said something about them being handy when he works so much he forgets to go to the loo." Harry smiled wistfully. "He wouldn't speak to me for two months."

When they started walking again Harry animatedly told him a story about a half-giant, a flying creature called a hippogriff, and a boy he really hated in school. Most of it didn't make much sense, but Harry was nice enough to try and find non-magical terms to substitute into some of the story to try and help him understand.

"Wait. Wait. Did you just say people turned into-" He lowered his voice and leaned in a bit closer, realizing they were still out in public. "Did you really say a man turned into a rat?"

Harry nodded. "I swear on my mother's grave that's what happened. And imagine, this... monster living with your family for nigh on twelve years and no one knew a thing. Letting it sleep in your children's beds and pockets and not realizing it was the equivalent of a magical Nazi that would easily kill you all in your sleep if he could."

"Do magic rats live that long?"

"There was one that lived that long, but it was part of an experiment with the philosopher's stone so I'm not really sure if it can be counted."

"That's real, too?"

"Of course it is. Oh, light's changed. Let's go," he said. "So imagine my surprise when my godfather, who up until that moment I thought had broken out of the inescapable prison to kill me was really there to kill a rat. The rat that was really a man. And he would have, too, had it not been for this one teacher of mine misreading the situation... again. I mean sure he saved us from a werewolf but it wasn't like Moony was really going to eat us. Not when it was the rat he really wanted. And he never would have had the opportunity had it not been for the berk sticking his large crooked nose where it wasn’t wanted."

Steve gave up trying to make sense of his friend's seemingly nonsensical ramblings. But he continued to listen, and he continued to ask questions when something was just really odd. Though he had to admit when he'd made Harry promise not to lie to him anymore this wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind.

**o0o**

As the afternoon faded into evening, and the evening wore on into the first whispers of dusk, they were sat across from one another at a bar near Harry's apartment. The apartment, Steve noted after he'd arrived in it, was the same one that used to belong to him. Just... nicer now. The birthday boy himself had talked himself out a while ago and the two men were just... sitting. Having a few drinks and enjoying each other's company as they used to. Before Harry went back to his own time and Steve’s dreams of joining the war came true.

"Thank you," Harry said, pulling Steve out of his own thoughts. "For today I mean. You didn't have to stick around after a late lunch."

Steve smirked. "Kind of hard to leave when you're my ride."

Harry's green eyes shined as he smiled. And for just a minute Steve saw his old friend in him again. The man who, while out of his own time, was free from his troubles. So full of optimism and hope. "Besides you said it's your birthday. Nobody should be alone on their birthday."

Harry finished his drink and thought about ordering another before he glanced at his watch with a sigh. "We'd better get back to DC. I've got an early start in the morning and I'm sure SHIELD wouldn't want their golden boy out late on a school night."

They paid up, some fans holding Steve back wanting a few pictures. Once free he slipped out to join Harry on the sidewalk. "Sorry about that I-"

"You don't have to apologize. I know what it's like."

"Have any tips?"

"A hat and some sunglasses?" he suggested with a shrug before nodding towards the alley.

"Like that would work. I've seen Tony try it-"

"Of course it doesn't work for him. Everyone's seen him in sunglasses all the time," Harry said, starting the motions for the slingring. "I'll put you down in the alley next to Martha’s if that's alright with you."

"You're not coming?"

"There's.... something I need to take care of before I head back. A sort of birthday ritual I do every year.” The lie was easy to make as it rolled off his tongue. Too easy.

Steve frowned as he looked at his friend. The light in his eyes had dimmed, and his smile was... almost empty. "You sure? Maybe I can help."

"No. It's nothing really. I'll see you tomorrow." And they kept piling up. Harry knew Steve would be mad at him once he found out Harry was sent out on assignment. That he was leaving tomorrow morning and hadn't told him. But... why ruin a good birthday with talk about work? So he lied. And he smiled as he did so.

Steve hesitated. Over the months since he’d spotted Harry through the window of what he now knew was supposed to look like an out of business children’s boutique, he liked to think they were almost back to the way they used to be so long ago. He was also a very observant man - both because he had to be in order to lead his men but also because he was fascinated with human nature. It often inspired him when he sought out subjects to draw.

He could usually tell when one of his teammates were lying. Bruce tried not to since it only added to his anxiety and his green giant problems. He’d stutter and his palms would get a bit sweaty. Natasha... well, he couldn’t figure her out yet. Clint would scratch at his right ear for big lies and his left for little white ones. Tony always deflected back at someone else about something else entirely.

But Harry... Harry fidgeted. He was also very aware that he did that when he lied, so he would try not to. Which, just as Steve was looking at him now, led inevitably to Harry raking his fingers through his already messy black hair and trying to fake a smile. Cap almost said something but.... but eventually relented. Whatever it was could wait until after the man’s birthday. "Tomorrow then," he agreed before stepping into the portal Harry had created for him. When he turned back, the hole in space was gone and he was left with the rubbish bins of the alley.

Back in Brooklyn, Harry left the alley with a crack of thunder, reappearing in his apartment. "Kreacher!" he called, summoning the old, vile house elf that came with his old house. With a soft pop, the elf appeared beside him. "There you are, Kreacher."

"Master Potter-Black calls Kreacher. Kreacher comes," it said, bowing low to him. The emerald encrusted golden locket still hung around it's neck, shining brightly in the lamplight. "What does Master ask of Kreacher?"

"I'll be leaving for work before the sun comes up. Hermione and Ron will probably be using the apartment while I am away. You are to serve them as you would me. And Tony if he happens to come by."

"The dirty squib is unworthy of-"

"That dirty squib is my flesh and blood and you will do well to remember that at all times, Kreacher," he said with a long suffering sigh. "I'm going to wash up then go to bed. I would like you to make sure my old uniform is pressed and ready for me when I wake. And a light breakfast with very strong tea. If anyone were to ask for my whereabouts while I am away?..."

"Master Potter-Black is unable to be found, even by Kreacher's magic."

"Good man," Harry said, patting the elf on the head before leaving into the back of the apartment for his bath.

**o0o**

Agent Grim stood with his hands behind his back, head held high, and was dressed in his basilisk battle robes. The hood was pulled low and the Obscurius Imitatus traded out for a white bone half-mask reminiscent of the old Death Eaters of his childhood. After all, he was going to be working closely with this team for an undisclosed length of time in the foreseeable future and a super sticky charm worked just as well and was a hell of a lot more convenient.

The irony that he looked like he belonged to one of the most vile dark wizard factions in Modern Magical British History was not lost on him. But it did the job he wanted - intimidation. And if anyone else in the team made the connection well... it wouldn't make sense for Grim to be Harry Potter because despite rumours in England, Harry Potter would _never_ take on the look of a Death Eater. Supposedly. The idea would simply be too preposterous.

"For those fresh out of the wizarding world, I am Agent Grim, former Unspeakable and currently attached to the no-maj unit The Avengers. And this," he said with his voice altered less than usual. "Is an experiment to see if our two worlds can work together. You were hand picked by your respective organizations for this team. For the no-maj among you... Yes. Magic is real. And I can kill you from here with 2 words. Or I can close your bullet wounds with a wave of my finger. You have teammates now who can do the same."

Harry looked over the rest of them. "Oh, and one more thing. For any purebloods in the crowd, I will kill you with my bare hands if you so much as hint at magical superiority or blood purity. Now get your collective asses on the plane and I'll brief you on the mission ahead."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on a drabble about the Avengers doing PR stuff, so expect to see that come up soon, too.


	3. From August to November 2013

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning it gets a bit dark before it gets brighter again. It won't last long though. Just this chapter and a bit of the next. But this story's got a happy ending already planned.

August rolled into September without much out of the ordinary happening.

Harry and his team were sent to central Europe to deal with a weird cult that had been trying to give people mystical powers through... questionable means.

Ron expanded the family business further in the US and at his wife's insistence started selling small magical tech in the shop as a test market for her and Tony's projects. Little things like magic resistant cell phones and tablets that Tony designed and Hermione enhanced.

When she wasn't working with Tony and Ron, Hermione was in DC studying Steve before and after every mission and building on her hypothesis and Howard Stark's research. They tended to avoid talking about Harry most of the time. Steve was... not happy about being lied to. Hermione felt guilty for ignoring her friend on his birthday. But that didn't stop either of them from occasionally asking if the other had heard from him recently.

Steve sometimes got short, hastily written letters that were no more than a few sentences long. Never about what he was doing or where he was, but letting him know he was alright. Hermione... never got any letters. Once a week she would see his Patronus silently perched on the balcony. But outside that...

And Harry himself... well...

Agent Grim was making a name for himself and his men as they tore through the dark corners of continental Europe. One day overthrowing a dictator and the next coordinating a stealth op to get some hostages free without bloodshed. It wasn't that different from what Harry normally did for the ICW in the past... only now he worked muggle cases as well.

That all changed on September first...

**o0o**

Tony and Pepper were woken by the intruder alarms blaring full force.

Tony wasted no time calling his armor to himself as he made his way up and out to the roof. Hermione and Ron, who'd been staying over in Harry's floor for a few days, were right behind him soon enough. Thankfully Bruce was away at a conference, otherwise they'd have to get the ceilings repaired... again.

When they reached the roof, they found a group of people huddled together. Tony lifted the face-plate as he and Hermione moved closer. "JARVIS?"

"They appeared suddenly, sir. The strange dress indicates-"

"Mum!" shouted a voice from the group before a bloodied middle aged man separated from them, throwing himself at Hermione and wrapping her tightly in his arms.

There were pops. Sudden and jarring as more people appeared. One small group clinging to a broken umbrella. Two children hugging a bloody boot. An old woman clutching a small child to her bosom with one arm while the other was a freshly cauterized stump... a strip of leather clasped between her teeth. By the time the pops had stopped and people ceased arriving there were around thirty children in various states of shock and distress and around half that many adults. Bloodied. Bruised. Some even missing limbs or even senses.

Tony and Ron tried to make some order of the situation while Hermione, after extricating herself from her son, started seeing to the most urgent cases of injury right then and there... the three of them could be certain of only a few bare facts.

They all arrived by improvised portkey.

All the portkeys carried Harry's magical signature.

The date was September first, and most of the children were wearing Hogwarts school robes.

By the time lunch had come low ranking SHIELD agents Hermione had been working with had arrived, healer kits in hand as they helped tend those Hermione hadn't gotten to yet. Tony, with Pepper's help, coordinated room and board for everyone not related the Weasley family while Ron took it upon himself to see to his kith and kin.... Those that had survived the attack at least.

By 4pm that day the residents of Avengers Tower and the rest of the magical world had learned the attack on Platform 9 3/4 was one of several coordinated attacks that day. Several ferries and bullet trains were destroyed in France. China saw an ancient fortress crumble to the ground. A mysterious castle from the dark ages suddenly appeared out of thin air, carved into the side of a mountain in southwest Bulgaria. Fire and ash poured down the mountain that day. Locals reported unholy screams echoing from the mountains as if Death itself had unleashed the souls of the damned upon them.

Hermione tried desperately to reach Harry. Sending Patronus after Patronus. She called out to him through the communication mirror. She left messages every hour on his cellphone. She even attempted to send international owls after him, but they would circle the city and return to their perch at the post office... their letters undelivered.

Tony had JARVIS watching the satellite feeds across the globe for any significant changes or sudden appearances (or disappearances) of strange buildings or land masses.

When they finally did hear from Harry it was the third week of September. The Avengers (minus Harry of course) had just fought off the equivalent of a genetically modified zoo and crazed scientists attached to Advanced Idea Mechanics - Aldritch Killian's old firm - they had just finished patching up Clint and sending him on his way. Steve had just come in for his own quick post-fight medical chat with Hermione when there was a tapping at the window.

The three turned to see a unfamiliar snowy owl flapping it's wings and hovering outside. Tony told JARVIS to open the window enough for the creature to get inside. The window to the left slid open before the bird was a large pale blur of feathers.

Hermione transfigured a kidney dish into a perch and filled another with water for the poor, exhausted bird.

"There's a box tied to it's ankle."

Tony untied the parcel and the bird bobbed it's head in thanks before returning to it's drink. He set it down on the nearest surface and Hermione enlarged it. The parcel doubled in size, and the handwriting on the outside was a very familiar scrawl.

It was from Harry.

"He must have been in an awful hurry if he used a snowy," she remarked as Tony unwrapped the box and cut it open with a small pocket knife. Once open, he found three letters and a small wooden box. He took out the letters and set them aside, promptly ignoring them in favor of the box. He lifted it out and looked at it, trying to find where it opened and found... nothing. No hinges. No seams. It was just a plain, solid block of polished wood.

He put it down, slightly annoyed. "Figures. Probably some kind of magic box."

Hermione was the one to pick up the letters and look through them. "Steve, there's one here for you as well," she said, offering him one. He took it with a nod and tucked it into his back pocket to read privately later. "Let's just... get this over with."

She nodded her agreement, offering Tony a letter with his name on it before tucking her own back into the box it had arrived in, along with the wooden block.

"I don't like being handed things."

"Tony..."

"What? I don't."

"Take it and please leave so I can give Steve his physical."

"Just wave your wand, mutter some mumbo jumbo and you're done. Takes all of five minutes. Then we can go and check on the cousins and-"

"Tony, do you remember Christmas of 1996?"

A slightly horrified look crossed his face as Hermione smiled politely. "Good," she said. "Off you pop. I think Hugo was looking for you while the team was out. Go see what he wanted."

Once Tony had cleared the room, Steve was much more at ease with the woman. He took off his shirt and their usual Doctor-patient banter started as she looked him over. A tray floated by her side as she used a salve on his back. "Thought you'd not mention this bit didn't you?" she said as she poked around the edges of the burn. "Not even your super healing can heal that quickly," she said. "Yet."

Steve turned his head some to try and see over his shoulder as she finished applying a salve and placed bandages over them, using temporary sticking charms. "Yet? Did you have a breakthrough in the research then?"

"I did," she said. "After the attack I... I needed something to keep my mind off..."

"You don't have to explain," he said, turning with a slight wince at the pull of the burn and taking her hand. "But if you need to, you know you have friends here. You've got my number and the power to just appear in my DC apartment at any time. I'm sure Nat and Clint would have no problems stealing a quinjet, flying to England, and doing what they do best if they thought it might help."

She wiped at her eye with the sleeve on her other arm before nodding rather than letting any tears fall. "Thank you, Steve."

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze before letting it go. "Now about this breakthrough?"

She wiped at her face one more time for good measure, used magic to touch up her make-up, and summoned the stool from under the desk nearby. "As I examined my notes from the start of our little chats and compared your physicals from each session, as well as any odd bruising and injuries, such as your burn," she started as he reached for his shirt. "I did not immediately notice a steady increase in what I've decided to call your 'healing factor'. Little nicks and cuts go away within twenty-four hours-"

"Yeah. I started noticing that back in the war. I'd shave, get distracted by Bucky or one of the guys, and nick my cheek or my chin. By the time I got done for the day, it'd be gone. Not even a scab."

She nodded. "Yes, exactly. For larger injuries still took time to heal. Take for example a broken arm. It may take the average no-maj months before their arm is properly healed using modern medicine techniques. For a squib, who has a hint of magic, that time is cut down depending on how much magic they have but cannot use, or their access to healers and magical remedies. The magic will bolster their immunity and ability to heal from common diseases and injuries. The downside is that they are left wide open to magical disease which even a common wizard's flu can kill them. If given the right treatments in time they may survive, but they will remain weakened and likely will contract the disease again."

Steve nodded along as she spoke, then frowned. "But I'm not a squib."

"And you're no longer a no-maj. Quite frankly I don't know what you are. There has never been anyone like you before. A perfect meeting of science and magic, all in one rather handsome package. Historically, there is only one person similar enough to compare you to. And in modern times the only other person I know of who can heal that quickly-"

"Is Harry."

"Yes."

"The one that did this to me."

"Essentially, yes."

Steve sighed and shook his head. "Does he know what he did? Did he-"

She shook her head back at him. "He does now. And no, it was not deliberate. Harry... Harry is a very intense individual. Unlike the rest of us in the magical world Harry is a Warlock Class wizard. Think... a modern day Merlin. He is currently the most powerful magical entity on this planet. And he is ruled by his emotions. I can say with certainty that whatever he was feeling at the time he cast those protections on you, it was so powerful that Adolf Hitler himself could have shot you in the face the next morning and you'd be fine by Tuesday."

"What?!"

"Add the serum into the mix... and you've got the recipe for a perfect.... whatever it is you became. And over time your healing factor has become faster. Stronger even. Tell me, Steve, how sharp is the straight razor you use to shave? When was the last time you nicked yourself by accident?"

He was silent.

She continued. "The serum enhanced what was already present. It sharpened all of your senses. It gave you the body and heightened reflexes along with it. But the magic present saw it as a threat to your life and acted in the way it was designed to act. To protect you by any means necessary. And so, the magic turned inward and created a core where none was present. This bolstered your immune system against the muggle-made threat as well as aiding in your physical changes. Once the magic became an extension of you, the serum enhanced this, too. I imagine if you were to live to say... one hundred twenty, you might be able to grab a wand and do little things like summon a pencil. Or turn a matchstick into needle."

"This was your breakthrough?"

"No."

"So what was it then?"

"There was a spell in your aura that I couldn't quite pick apart and examine. Here, I'll show you," she said, reaching into her sleeve for her vine wand. She gave it a few swishes and a flick. Steve began to glow before a semi-transparent version of him stood and stepped forward. Hermione said something he didn't quite catch, and the features faded to an outline of a body with what looked like a smoldering ember where the heart should be. "That," she said. "Is your magical core. In normal wizards, it's further down. More in the abdomen area, and is a bright green. In Harry, it sits in his heart and is a large dark blue, nearly black mass. Sure gave many of us the willies when we first saw it. Yours... is just a spark right now. But if my theory is correct then it will grow over time. I imagine it will be just a bit larger than a squib, but not much bigger than that."

She gave another word, and the outline of Steve's body gained more outlines. "This is the spell matrix in your aura. Everything in silver has been deciphered. Much of it my own design, some of it designed by a former colleague of ours' during the war."

"What's the red one?"

"I am ashamed to admit I should have thought of it first since Harry has been known for his creative uses of household spells."

"And?"

"It's a common preservation spell used to keep food fresh for months at a time. But with Harry's power behind it..."

"Months become years."

She nodded, trying not to laugh. "That's how you survived the ice. With a spell that is more commonly used to keep a sandwich fresh for three months at a time. When the vita-ray exposure nearly killed you, the preservation charm kicked in, setting off a domino effect that caused the rest of the protective magic to respond accordingly. The only recourse was to turn you from non-magical to magical in order to survive what it saw as muggle-made poison. Doing so boosts your resistance to muggle diseases and injuries. But with the preservation charm worked into the spell matrix, it had the unintended effect of... the healing factor. The preservation charm does what it was designed to do, sort of. Normally it keeps things in a stasis state, but here it reverts you to the state you were when you came out of the machine. What takes a squib a week to heal from, takes you days. What takes days, takes hours. And what takes hours... no longer even happens."

**o0o**

It was Halloween.

He'd told his men they had the night off.

It was a long week. An even longer month.

No one was supposed to be in the safe house at this hour except for Grim. And even then, he didn't plan on staying long. Just long enough to put his things in order. He tucked a pouch of galleons into the pocket of his fighting robes, hoping to get himself a warm drink and a nice meal after making his secret trip to Godric's Hollow.

"Need some company?"

Grim whirled around, wand raised and ready to strike, but he faltered when he saw it was only one of his men. "You're supposed to be out with the others."

"You plan on using that or are you just going to stand there pointing at me with it, Lord Potter?"

It was then Grim noticed which wand he pulled out. The elder wand. Everyone and their grandmother knew he took it after the Battle of Hogwarts. "What do you want, Agent Clemmons?"

"Seems a shame to waste your galleons on a back alley whore. Never know what you might catch."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Seems so, sir."

"No."

"What, not your type?"

"Even if you were, I don't dip my quill in company ink."

The obnoxious agent smirked. "That's not what I heard."

"Is that what you lot do to keep yourself amused? Gossip about your boss behind his back?"

"And a very fine back it is, sir," Clemmons remarked. "You don't deny it?"

"Deny what, exactly?"

"You and Stark."

Grim tilted his head, just a little, to the left. To those who didn't know him, it was an innocent seeming reaction. One that expressed uncertainty and curiosity... but to those who did know him... who knew what signs to look for...

He stalked forward suddenly, his movements almost serpentine and predatory in their fluidity. "Where'd you hear that one?"

"Does it matter?" Clemmons teased as Grim vanished his mask to fully expose and confirm his identity; their faces a scant few inches from one another as the bright, Avada green eyes searched the man's face, avoiding the eyes for the moment. Clemmons licked his lips in anticipation, then made his most fatal, and final, mistake.

"I can call you daddy, too if you like."

Grim's eyes snapped up to meet hazel, and within seconds, Clemmons was a drooling idiot and Grim's anger grew. Memory after memory was ripped from the man's mind as he searched for information. Uncaring what it did to the man before him, Grim shredded the consciousness of Agent Clemmons until he found the scrap of information he was looking for. And then... he found it.

A piece of memory.

A seemingly innocent scene unless you knew what was in the brown envelope. He recognized the man the envelope was passed off to. He watched as the door behind the man was opened, and there... sitting inside the room was himself dressed in Azkaban stripes. Chained to the floor and flanked by Dementors.

Grim pulled out of the man's mind, leaving him damaged as the man's body slumped to the floor. Staring without seeing out into the darkness of the room. Magic, angry and volatile, seemed to wrap around Grim seconds before he disappeared with a quick spin on his heel.

By the time the rest of the team had come back from a night of drinking and revelry on one of their few nights off, it was to find Agent Clemmons, one of the wizards attached to the team from WARD, slumped over, drooling all over himself and babbling incoherently.

The team medic took a quick scan of him before confiding in their second in command the man was "Longbottomed."

None of the magicals wanted to say what they thought. It was kind of an open secret that the moment Clemmons found out the boss was more fond of fit blokes than he was curvy birds he'd had his sights set on climbing the ladder the easy way.

"So..." said one of the squibs a few hours later. "Which one of you's got the betting chart? I think it was Jenkins that had Clemmons down for mush brain."

"No no, Jenkins had that his brain would be turned to actual mush. It was Hollister that had psychological break."

"That's not a bloody break mate. That's brain's been put through the bloody shredder. I told him not to try it. Especially not tonight of all nights."

One of the SHIELD no-maj pulled up a chair to join them. "You're saying Grim did this?"

Most of the heads nodded. "He's.... not the most gentle when extracting information. It's why Hollister and I usually do the mind magic," Agent Jenkins said. "In muggle terms the boss is like a bloody nuclear bomb for something that really only needs a poke with a stick. I heard that back in his school days he and his friends didn't like one of their teachers so they wiped his brain clean of everything. Poor sod didn't even know his own name by the end of it."

"When he was in school?!"

Jenkins nodded. "Swear on me mam's cousin's entire house, rest their wicked pureblooded souls," he said. "The crazy bastard was only twelve at the time."

"I heard," piped up another. "Back in the war he took on that batshit insane woman... what was her name again. Isabella? Belladona? One of them Blacks. Ripped her to shreds like some kinda animal."

"Nah.... that was that werewolf he had running with him."

"Says who?" chimed in another.

"Says old Thomas from HQ security. Get him and that one bloke from the demolitions department nice and drunk and they'll start tellin stories of the good old days."

As the magicals traded stories and rumours of what they'd heard, none of them outright saying they knew Grim's true name, the no-maj among them listened. Others joined them to hear the wild tales through the night. Eventually, things started to wind down and some left for their beds in the rest of the safe house.

But one stubborn squib insisted on taking the watch and never left his seat by the window. Some of the no-maj remained, too keyed up to get any sleep.

"You've been awful quiet over there, Gilliam. All that talk of the crazy shit the boss might've done didn't scare you did it?"

"It's all true," the man replied. "I'm not surprised what he did to Clemmons. Anyone that knows his story knows not to try shit tonight."

"That's the second time somebody's mentioned that. What's so special about tonight?"

"It's the night his parents were murdered. It's why he is the way he is."

"What?"

Gilliam nodded. "We know his name, because we know there is no one else as powerful as him in our world. And this night is one that is celebrated in our world as the night Grim, at 15 months old, defeated a powerful dark wizard for the first time. But to him it's a sacred night. Why do you think he gave us all some time off despite the fact he works us damn near to death the rest of the time? No. Halloween for Grim is a night of Death. A night where he's reminded of what he lost."

"Where do you think he went?"

Gilliam shrugged. "To visit his parents I guess. I'm not a bloody mind reader."

**o0o**

He knew himself well enough to know that if he acted on what he knew tonight, a lot of people would die. His plans for visiting his parents and Luna in Godric's Hollow shot to hell, Agent Grim spent the remainder of Halloween night somewhere he hadn't expected to find so... relaxing.

He lay in dingy on his back with his legs propped up on one of the seats. His hands folded across his stomach as he stared up at the night sky near Azkaban.

Harry had no worries of being found by patrolling aurors or prison guards. The wards he set up would alert him long before anyone would even reach the dingy.

When he returned at dawn the next morning with a loud clap of thunder, it was to find a lot of hung over agents giving him a wary look. He turned to the nearest man and gave his orders. "Get on the line to the nearest field office and have Clemmons taken back to Belfast for medical. We leave for Romania in an hour."

"Yes sir," the man said to his retreating back. Harry stopped at the stairs to the upper level of the safe house and half-turned to address his men again.

"For the record, if anyone else attempts what Clemmons tried last night, I'll cut your cock off and feed it to my friend's pet cerberus, is that understood?"

"Yes sir!" echoed those around him rather quickly.

"Good. Because you're all ugly as sin and I'm pretty sure two of you it'd be considered incest anyway." He waited a few beats and grinned wickedly. "Fifty-eight minutes and ticking, gentlemen."


	4. Early to Mid November 2013

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More angst. Sorry. There's one more bit of angst coming in Chapter 5, but that'll be the last. It'll be fluff from then on out.

They hadn't heard from Harry since his letters and the package.

Hermione submitted her paperwork on Steve to Coulson, who sent it up the chain to Director Fury. Howard Stark's original journals and notes on Project Rebirth were returned to the SHIELD vaults (but Hermione made sure to keep a few personal copies she'd made). Clint took some much needed time off and Nat returned to DC where Steve had been spending more and more of his time.

Pepper, working with Tony and Hermione, unveiled MagiTech to the masses. Of course, in the normal, non-magical world it was just a new line of Stark Tech toys. But at the International Conference of Magical Theoretic and Inventive Design, Hermione Granger-Weasley unveiled to investors, inventors, and rich purebloods with more money than sense, the top of the line MagiTech Suite of devices. Right along with this was the announcement of Forge Co., the more serious arm of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, through which all MagiTech was exclusively available.

Of course, it didn't hurt that a portion of all payments went towards the International Children's Rescue Fund created through various channels by Tony for the sole purpose of helping rebuild in the aftermath of the September 1st attacks.

The start of November seemed to be a rather busy time for everyone.

Even WARD and SHIELD had their hands full with various operations popping off around the globe.

So it wasn't too hard for some reports to slip through the cracks.

Odd magical disturbances going on in England at Stonehenge.

Reports of a secret soldier project being uncovered by a team in Romania. Something about an assassin for hire from the Russians.

Or even a coup in the British Ministry itself, with a well known anti-Dark Magic politician securing the seat of power known as Minister for Magic. The man's first act was to close magical borders to the rest of the world.

But seeing as most of the Weasley clan had already come across the pond in the wake of their shared tragedy in September... no one gave it much notice. And if they did... well, it wasn't like word could get in or out of the magical side of Britain anyway.

**o0o**

Harry sat shoving a forkful of cup noodle into his face as he watched the battle unfold on the television. Or rather, what little the news stations could get. Everything was in Finnish and he wasn't inclined to use a translation charm.

"What's on the telly then boss?" Gilliam asked as he sat down on an upturned bucket nearby.

"Shouldn't you be out in the field right now kid?"

"Nah. They got no use for me on clean up," he said. "Hey, so we get to head back home now, right? Finally got to the bottom of it?"

"By the look of it there won't be a home for some of you to go back to." He used his plastic fork to point at the TV before using it to twirl more noodle.

"By Merlin, that's Thor!"

"Yep."

"He's one of the Avengers! You ever meet him?"

Harry shrugged, slurped up some noodles, and stabbed at the bits of freeze dried veg in the bottom of the cup. "He's the only one I haven't met yet. Buggered off back to Assland or whatever to lock his brother up."

Gilliam nodded his understanding and the two watched the TV until the signal cut out and the news anchors returned to the screen.

**o0o**

They were waiting for the quinjet as it touched down on the helicarrier. One woman, the taller of the two, was clad in a SHIELD body suit while the other wore something closer a skirt suit. A third person, dressed in the crimson of the British Auror Corps and bearing the badge of the head of the DMLE stood with them. His gray hair kept short and looking a tad older than his sixty-some odd years. Then again, everyone in Harry's generation looked older than they were. Everyone but Harry himself of course.

The three watched as the cargo doors opened and the ragtag team clambered out looking a hell of a lot more hardened than they had when they'd left back in August.

They heard Grim bark orders before dismissing his men. He turned to head back into the plane when they called out to him. "Agent Grim! A word!"

He turned only his head to look back at them, and his mouth pulled into a grimace. "Buggering hell," he muttered, then louder as he turned fully to approach them, "Whatever it was I didn't bloody do it. And if I did, it was someone using polyjuice!"

The Auror fought not to crack a smile, barely managing to stifle his chuckle at the women's severe glares. "Right. Yes. War criminal extradition. Of course," the Auror said, trying to sound serious.

For the next three hours Agent Grim sat first being debriefed by Agent Hill, filling in for Coulson. Immediately on the heels of that he was faced with the third most unpleasant woman he'd had the misfortune of meeting in the last half-century.

Eventually he just got tired of listening to her and interrupted her spiel about his various and sundry war crimes against the British People. "I'm sorry, but by doing my duty as an agent of WARD, as a goddamn wizard and let's not forget that I'm a bloody super hero now, you want to throw my arse back into Azkaban, is that correct? Retired Auror Smith, am I hearing this right?"

"It's Acting Head Auror now, Lord Potter."

"Don't give me that Lord bullshit Zacharias. This isn't the Wizengmont and we are not in a court room."

"Lord Potter-"

"Now you listen here Undersecretary whatever your name is-"

"Lady Goyle."

"Oh, so he did marry the walrus after all. Good for him. Though, I suppose this means I lost the betting pool. I swore up and down he was so far up Crabbe's arse he didn't know which way was up."

This time Auror Smith couldn't stop himself, so instead he covered his mouth to try and keep from laughing too loud. "Be that as it may, Lord Potter," the woman snapped angrily. "The fact remains that you violated the terms of your exile from Magical Britain, thus violating the terms of your... arrangement with this... muggle organization and the ICW." The word muggle was spoken with obvious disgust. That was not lost on both of the war veterans present.

"It was an emergency situation and given the fact that you lot had to call back the retired law enforcement officers to fill in the gaps I made, I thought it to be the right course of action to personally help in your time of need."

"Something for which the people of Magical Britain are once again in your debt for, Lord Potter. However, in the process you not only violated the terms of your arrangement, you also illegally removed British citizens across international borders-"

"Whoa whoa whoa! So by evacuating survivors-"

"To a known muggle location-"

"To my bloody home in New York-"

"The roof of Avengers Tower," Undersecretary Goyle said.

"Like I said, my bloody home in New York," Grim firmly repeated for her.

"Constitutes abduction. Given that most were minor age children-"

"Most of whom are members of my extended family."

"You are unmarried with no blood relations save an undocumented squib conceived under the influence of the blackest of magic, for which the penalty is execution for you and termination for the offspring. No matter the age."

Auror Smith took a step back when the table began to rattle. "This is... above my pay grade," he said, breaking the tension. "We're very sorry for wasting your time, Lord Potter. You may go about your business."

"We are not done here."

"Madame Goyle, it is my professional opinion that you have overstepped your authority here. In my personal opinion you've just upset the most powerful person on this damn planet and if we don't leave then everyone on this flying muggle ship is going to die. Yourself included."

The table continued to rattle between them. Finally, Grim spoke. "Before you leave, do you know where my son is?"

"No," she said haughtily. "But give it time, Lord Potter. Minister Declan has his ways of obtaining information."

"You remind me a lot of a predecessor of yours," he said calmly, despite the clattering of the table. "Do you know what happened to Madame Umbridge in the end?"

The table stopped. Zacharias Smith put a hand to Undersecretary Goyle's shoulder and the two disapparated with a sudden, jarring pop.

The door of the debriefing room opened to reveal Agent Hill, gun drawn. "You okay in here Grim?"

Grim stood, hands shaking. "If you have somewhere on this thing that's Hulk proof, take me there now. I won't make it to the tower."

Maria looked him over quickly before hearing a voice in her ear. "Yes sir," she said to whomever was on the other end. "Follow me," she said.

**o0o**

Nick Fury watched on the helicarrier internal CCTV from his office as Agent Grim stopped outside the reinforced Hulk-proof, Thor-proof containment cell. He raised a brow as the man started to strip down to his shorts before handing all of his clothes and belongings to Agent Hill and stepping inside.

The door closed and the seals engaged as Director Fury watched the pale man shakily curl up into a ball in the center of the cell.

Then he saw it. Electricity crackling around him in bright, entrancing colors. And then something he had only seen a few times before when he was a much younger man happened. Something he never thought the human body capable of doing. Then again, he never thought phoenixes were real either until he'd seen his first one Vietnam. An explosion of light and fire so bright it screwed up the feed temporarily.

"Hill, what's going on down there?!" he shouted through the coms.

When she tried to respond, all he could hear was the agonized screaming of the man in the containment cell.

"Get out there Hill! Lock down the entire chamber! That's an order!"

Sometime later, Agent Hill had come into his office with a haunted look to her eyes. Her mind was still in disbelief of what she'd witnessed. She had put Grim's things in a generic SHIELD duffel bag, and left it with Director Fury after a rather stiff drink from his personal supply.

**o0o**

Tony, Bruce, Ron, and Hermione sat staring in disbelief at the live feed that JARVIS had started the moment Harry's quinjet had touched down.

It had been 48 hours since Bruce had walked in on Tony in the lab, watching as Harry stripped down to his boxers before stepping into the Hulk-proof cell Bruce knew only too well.

He'd asked what was going on, but Tony didn't answer. He didn't need to. Not when the footage showed them both the beginnings of a human nuclear bomb detonation.

And now, two days later, the video feed had cleared up enough for them to see into the cell again.

Harry lay naked as the day he was born, covered head to toe in old scars and new gaping wounds that even now they could see were slowly stitching themselves back together.

"JARVIS," Tony said solemnly, turning away from the live feed. "Using the available data and anything we've gotten from observation, we need to make some changes to one of the ongoing projects."

**o0o**

"What the hell was _that_?!"

Grim looked up from where he was crouched on the floor, going through the duffel bag Fury had brought him. The super spy watched the man's skin rippling as it slowly continued to heal before his one good eye. Most of the lesions were gone now, appearing as fresh scars while most of the older scars had started to fade.

"I apologize for subjecting Miss Hill to that shameful display. I thought," he said, slipping a t-shirt over his head before snatching up his trousers and standing up to tug them on. "I thought I'd gotten better at mastering my emotions. But... recent events seem to have gotten the better of me."

"You still haven't answered my damn question, Agent Grim."

He shrugged as he fastened his pants and squatted down to search through the bag for his socks and shoes, opting to leave the battle robes off.

"What happened to you?"

"My... magic..." he said. "When I get angry- no, worse than that. When I am completely consumed by rage and unbridled fury, my tight control over my magic becomes unmanageable," he explained, sitting down on the floor and pulling on his socks. He did not look at the leather clad spy glaring down at him. "Every powerful witch or wizard eventually hits their limit and their power and ability sort of plateaus out." He pulled on a boot and tied it the old fashioned muggle way. "But I did something no living man is meant to do, and as a result I didn't just break my limit. I shattered through it. Unfortunately if I don't release it, the pressure builds until, well... it doesn't need to be said."

"Are there other methods to release it or is it always this explosive?"

Harry rolled his eyes and stood, brushing himself off and silently summoning his mask from the bag, fixing it to his face. "There are but they are not readily available to me."

"With our resources, they could be."

"I doubt it. Unless you have another Warlock class wizard that needs slaying or are volunteering to personally see to it many times a night. With repeat performances as needed." Fury raised a brow as Harry smirked at him. "As I said, other methods are not readily available to me. And I doubt they will be any time soon."

Harry stooped down to pick up the bag and began to root through it for his wand holsters and wands. Once those were strapped to his wrists and secure, he zipped up the bag, transfigured it into a hoodie, and pulled it on over his head. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I smell awful and need to sleep the rest of this off."

**o0o**

It was dark out, but Steve wasn't sleeping. Before the serum, he didn't get much sleep because he was sick all the time. After the serum, he didn't need much sleep anyway. And after decades of forced sleep, well...

There'd be plenty of time for sleep when he didn't have to be a hero.

So it wasn't too terrible a disturbance when the banging on his front door started.

He checked the time, just past 10pm. Unless it was work related, he really doubted anyone would be coming to see him this late. Especially without calling him first.

The banging came again, and this time Steve got up from his chair and set the book he'd been reading into the seat. He stopped at the door to listen, then looked through the peep hole.

Within seconds the door was flung open and there, standing with his fist raised to start banging a third time, was a haggard looking Harry. His hair was dripping, but to Steve's knowledge it wasn't raining outside. His mask was held in his other hand, and the strong smell of the SHIELD issue 2-in-1 shampoo that was kept in the locker rooms for anyone to use wafted through the air around him. Steve stared at him with something akin to relief as he stood in the hall outside his apartment.

"Can I come in?" he asked quietly.

Steve gave a nod, stepping aside to let his friend in. He looked out the door long enough to check the hallway before closing it and locking it again behind them. When he turned back to his friend, it was to see him just standing there as if lost. "Harry, you alright?" He reached out touch his shoulder, and was surprised when the smaller man slammed into him, wrapping his arms tightly around his torso and burying his face in his chest. He stiffened in surprise, but when he felt the damp spot form on his shirt and the man's shoulders started to shake, he recovered and reciprocated the hug.

After a few awkward minutes, he managed to pry Harry's arms off him and held him back. But Harry wouldn't look at him. "Can I get you a drink?" he asked, not sure what else to say. "I haven't got much in right now-"

"Water is fine," Harry replied, just as quietly as he had asked to come in.

Steve led him to the sparse living room, indicating that he should sit on the sofa while he went and got them each some water. When he came back, Harry had set his mask on the coffee table and had pulled his hoodie off, leaving it draped over the arm of the sofa. "Here," he said, offering him one of the two glasses of ice water he'd brought out. Then, he picked up his book and set it next to the mask so he could sit down.

The silence was slightly awkward until finally, Harry sighed. "Sorry," he said.

"It's just a shirt. Not like I can't wash it."

"no. I meant for turning up like this. I- I'm a bit of a coward sometimes."

"You have no reason to be sorry. And you're not a coward."

"Either way," he said, then sipped his water to clear his throat. "I don't want to face the others just yet. I need time to rest."

"And if you go home now you'll have Tony poking his nose in. Your family will be all over you wanting to talk about it. And you just want to be left alone. Did I get any of that right?"

Harry smiled weakly. "Give the man a prize," he said.

Steve shrugged and took a sip of his water before setting it down on a coaster. Then, he picked up his book. "When you're tired, there's spare blankets in the closet next to the bathroom. I'll toss a pillow out here later for you."

"Thank you, Steven."

"It's what friends are for."

The two sat in silence for what felt like hours, but was in all truth only about half an hour before Harry spoke again. He'd finished his water a while ago, and now sat on the edge of the sofa, holding the Elder Wand with the ends pressed against each index finger. Green eyes staring at the thing in a manner most decidedly contemplative. "You asked me a long time ago about the scar," he said. "The odd one on my forehead."

"Was that before or after I watched you kill two men with that stick?"

"Don't be facetious, Steven. You may be thirty years older than me but even I know your mind's as sharp as a steel trap. You know very well it was after."

Steve slid a bookmark between the pages and closed his book. He leaned forward to set it next to his half-drunk glass of water. "Yeah. And you said you didn't want to talk about it."

Harry nodded, but never took his eyes away from the wand he held between his fingers. "I didn't. I hardly knew you at the time."

Steve shook his head and fought a smile. "Yet you still had the guts to-"

"We agreed to pretend that never happened."

"No, you decided for the both of us to pretend it never happened. And then when I tried to talk it out with you, you kept trying to hide in your room. And then changed the subject."

Harry finally looked at him, but only from the corner of his eye. "And you said it made you uncomfortable," he reminded him swiftly before shifting the wand to one hand and sliding it into the holster on his left wrist. "This is a mistake. I shouldn't have come," he said as he got to his feet to leave. Steve stood, taking a step towards him and stopping him with a hand on his forearm.

"Don't go," he said. "Sit down. Let's talk."

"not about that."

"Not about that," Steve agreed. "We'll talk about anything you want."

Harry looked down at his hand on his arm, unsure of what to do before this little voice in the back of his head told him to sit back down.

Steve removed his hand, letting it fall back to his side. "Your odd scar," he suggested. "You feel up to telling me about it?"

Harry nodded, the moment of indecision passed as he turned back to sit on the sofa once again. Steve sat back down in his chair, turned his body in it some to face his friend a little more. Once Harry was settled, sitting back against the cushions with his hand resting on his thighs, he nodded. "The scar is part of a prophecy told before I was born to a powerful wizard from a very drunk Seer... ah, your lot would call her a psychic or fortune teller. The least you need to know about that is it marked me for the rest of my life as the magical equal to a very powerful, very evil man. Of two children born under slightly vague conditions, he chose me because.... You know, to this day I still don't know why he chose me instead of the other boy. But, he did. And because of that my parents were murdered and I got this," he said, raising a hand to indicate the scar on his forehead. "And a present was left beneath it that I didn't know about until just before the first time I died."

And so Harry talked. And Steve listened.

He told him about growing up with the Dursleys. About the horrors of Vernon's beatings and Dudley's abuse. Of Petunia's willful neglect and hatred and jealousy because of his mother's magic. How he didn't know his own name until he was eight. Nor how his parents truly died until a kindly half-giant told him when he was eleven. Part way through Steve went to the kitchen and made a pot of coffee before coming back with two steaming mugs. He had apologized for not having anything stronger, or any cocoa powder.

Harry had laughed some at that, smiling a little smile as he'd been reminded of the time Steve had smuggled some home without a ration voucher because he felt so bad making Harry patch him up three days in a row.

The wizard had skimmed over some of the parts of his story because he'd already told those bits - the fun bits- to Steve in some of their past chats. Around five-twenty-two in the morning, Harry stared into his eighth cup of coffee and sighed. "I'd swear you only have decaf," he said.

"Brazilian roast, actually," Steve replied. "Every time I go somewhere I've never been, I buy a bag of coffee."

"But why?"

"Who am I going to send post cards to? Most of the people I knew are dead."

"Fair enough," Harry replied with a yawn. "I'll take that spare pillow and blanket now if you don't mind."

"It's the adrenaline crash finally catching up to you," Steve said, getting up and stopping long enough to take Harry's cup before the man dropped it on the floor. He checked the time when he was in the kitchen, figuring he wouldn't be going to bed any time soon. By the time he'd gotten a pillow from his bed and a blanket, Harry was already curled up on the sofa, his body facing the back with a hand curled up under his chin. Not wanting to disturb him too much, he left the pillow on his chair and draped the blanket over him before retreating back to his bedroom to start his day.

**o0o**

Steve went out for his jog at 6 instead of 5 like he did most mornings. Harry was still sound asleep where he'd left him when he got back.

He showered and changed, then made some more coffee and had breakfast. He made a second plate and stored it in the fridge under some tin foil.

He wrote a note and left it on the table, just in case Harry woke up while he was out.

Then he grabbed his keys, his phone, and left.

He rode around DC for most of the morning on his bike as he thought about the night before. About how strangely quiet Harry had been when he'd arrived. How tired he looked in the hallway before he let him in. The haunted look in his eyes every time he looked at Steve through the night as he told him his story. So much about the man now made sense in a way that hadn't before.

His passion for helping children, for instance, was due largely to the fact he was an orphan. That his childhood was spent being abused and mistreated. His staunch sense of duty wasn't a natural trait, but one beaten into him year after year of deadly trials at school of all places. His aversion to have his civilian identity known to the public, the non-magical public at least, was because he hated fame and everything it brought with it. He knew lots of people, but counted very few friends, and even fewer family because he was always on guard against those who sought to use him for his money or fame.

Steve found himself wondering as he pulled into the parking lot of a familiar care home if even those closest to the man saw him in such a state as he had appeared to Steve last night. He shook these thoughts from his head as he parked his bike and dismounted, tucking the helmet under his arm as he headed towards the door. He could ask Harry these things later.

Right now he had his other favorite transplanted Brit to visit.

He smiled as he approached the front desk. "Hi, Jessica," he said to the woman sitting behind it. "Is Ms. Carter up for visitors today?"

**o0o**

The door of the lab was thrown open with a loud crash of broken glass.

_**"CEDRIC HADRIAN BLOODY POTTER!"** _

_**"JARVIS! I thought you had this lab on lock-down!"** _

"It seems Dr. Granger-Weasley chose brute force today, Mr. Stark, sir."

"Hermione calm down!" Tony heard Ron's voice call out seconds before his seat was spun around.

"Hi aunt Hermione you're looking gorgeous today as always."

"Don't you Aunt Hermione me young man what is the meaning of this?!" She held up the touch-pad showing the schematics for one of his armors in development. "Is this what I think it is?"

"It's not what it looks like."

"Really? JARVIS, bring up Project Marauder if you will good sir."

"Hermione please, if Tony says it's not what it looks like-"

"Oh so you're okay with this?" she snapped angrily, and getting only angrier when the schematics did not come up on the larger screen nearby. "JARVIS, if you don't please open Project Marauder I will personally see to it that your entire system is fried and your backups wiped from every possible server... Even the one he thinks I don't know about in Mexico City."

"She has you there, sir. Perhaps it would be wise if I projected the requested information to the holo projector."

Tony looked from Hermione's irate face to Ron's worried one. Then, he gave a slow nod. "Alright..." he said. "But you have to know, I didn't want to do it. Harry asked me to."

"When? He's been gone for months and-"

"In the letter he sent in September," he said as JARVIS activated the projector. A hologram of a new armor schematic was brought up for the wizard and witch to see. "Run the simulation, JARVIS." The schematics shifted, the parts coming together to form a new armor. It showed off it's toys and gadgets. "He's scared out of his mind and after seeing what happens when he needs to hide in a vault for a week, I don't blame him."

"Is that.... this is slated to be made with anti-magic goblin metal alloys," Hermione said as the suit went into a walk cycle. "The machine gun shells you propose to use are... This is barbaric! You know goblin element 89 is deadly to magical beings! If he's hit with-"

"It won't kill him. But it will put him down for a while. Long enough for us to put up the anti-magic barriers and put him in lock-down."

She turned her large, brown eyes on Tony after taking in the full measure what this new armor could do and for what purpose it had even been conceived. "Why? Why do this? If this were to fall into the wrong hands-"

"I told you, he's scared. I've never known that man to be scared of anything since he came into my life at 17! You don't believe me, then read it yourself!" Tony shouted back at her, pulling the folded paper he carried around with him since he received it out of his back pocket. As she unfolded it, she noted it was tearing some at the creases indicating that it had been opened and folded many times in the last few months. She read it, then passed it to Ron. He read it slower, nodded, then folded it and left it on a table. "You saw just like I did what happens when he loses control. I don't want to use this. But if I have to choose between him and an entire city full of innocent people, I will choose the city every time."

"But-"

Ron put a hand on his wife's arm. "Hermione, he's right. You know Harry can't get past what he did in Scotland. All those people that died because he lost control. We can't stop him, and even if we could... Can you really see yourself driving a metal spike into his back to stop him from exploding? Imagine his guilt if he blew up a town full of muggles? Full of kids? He wouldn't be able to live with himself."

Hermione chewed her lip as she looked back to the armor schematics again, then nodded slowly. "Harry has a particular weakness to gnome element 22, commonly called Davinim for it's divinatory properties. Due to his affinity for death magic and blood magic, it's particularly potent even in small quantities. It's relatively harmless to most witches and wizards, and is easier to obtain than goblin element 89. Use it paired with common goblin steel and it will be twice as effective, lengthening the time available to... do what you have to do."

"You know this how?"

"Luna and I... might have used him as a guinea pig for research while Fred was watching the baby for a little while."

"Why?"

"Harry was restless, Luna was bored, and all you wanted to do was sleep. It was before the four of you went into hiding."

"Why did Fred-"

"He was the only one Harry would let near you and Luna. He wouldn't even let George come close. And trust me, we tried to trick him and he... sort of tore George's ear off with his teeth."

Tony stared at her, then looked to Ron for an explanation. The man simply nodded. "It was not a good day for George."

Ron fixed the door while Hermione checked with JARVIS to see if anyone heard her shout at Tony with his given name before hunting them down to obliviate that bit of information from their minds.

While she was kept busy with her task, Ron kept Tony company in the lab after the door was fixed. "So... an anti-wizard armor. You got any other fail safe suits lying around?"

Tony grinned. "JARVIS, let's show uncle Ron one of my favorites," he said. "You know the one."

"Given the context of your conversation, I believe I do sir."

A new hologram appeared of a rather large and heavy looking suit. "Ron Weasley, meet the _Hulk Buster_."

**o0o**

Peggy lay in her bed listening to Steve recount things since his last visit.

She'd had a good couple of days. Only had a few episodes in that time. Both her great nieces had come to visit her. Sharon, of course, couldn't stay long. She never did. But Eliza had come and spent hours with her despite living so far away in New York. She had even brought her youngest, a boy she'd adopted named Caleb, to come and meet her. The boy was so small, so precious. He reminded her so much of Tony when he was that age.

Peggy smiled, pushing these thoughts to the side so she could give Steve more of her attention. She watched his face as he spoke, and she responded accordingly when he paused or awaited an answer to a question. He was so animated. More so than usual - at least from the visits she could remember.

"-so relieved when I saw it was him. After everything that's happened with our team doctor's family, which is his family too, we've all been worried about him. I knew he was coming back this month sometime, but not when."

"You should tell him," she said.

"Tell him what?"

"I'm old and going senile, Steven. Not blind. Tell him how you feel."

"How I- I have no idea what you're talking about."

Peggy rolled her eyes and tried to sit up. Her old bones creaking and groaning under protest. Steve came forward to help her when he realized what she had mind to do. He fluffed her pillow and adjusted it so she could sort-of sit up. "Steven Grant Rogers," she began.

"Am I in trouble?"

"You're going to be if you don't listen to what I have to say." She reached out, indicating that he should take her hand. So he did, and she placed he other one over his. "This is the seventh visit in a row, that I can recall, where when you talk about your friend your face lights up. You smile more, even if you're worried about him. I believe he sent you a letter some time ago? You came two days in a row and spent an hour each time telling me all about it. Well, an hour that I can actually recall. It might have been longer for all I know," she said. "Tell me again, when you saw him on your door, how did you feel?"

"Relieved to see him alright."

"And I felt that very same way every time I saw you in a news reel. Each time your reports crossed my desk. Every letter. Every brief meeting between missions. Seeing proof with my own eyes that you were alive, that you were alright and in one piece, it made the world that much brighter for me. That much better."

"It doesn't mean anything-"

"It might. It might not," she said. "But he talks about you a lot, too you know."

Steve frowned. "How would you know?"

"Harry visits me, too. When he can. His work... keeps him away most of the time. But he comes with my niece sometimes. Sometimes with Tony. Not so much lately... he's the one that told me you were alive."

"How do you even know him? He's a wizard."

Peggy squeezed his hand gently. "He went to school with one of my nieces. They're very close. She introduced us actually. It... wasn't under the best of circumstances..." she said softly, starting to feel the fog clouding her thoughts again. "Before I..." she started, trying to force her thoughts now. "Have another episode." Her words were a little halting now. "When you talk about him, you look like Howard used to after he met Maria... Think... think on it some," she said, her words trailing off at the end as her once firm grip slackened and her eyes dimmed as she looked away.

Then, back at him again. "Oh hello Steve," she said brightly as if she'd just noticed him.

He spent another half hour at her bedside, listening to her prattle on about her now deceased husband as if he were alive and well and just stepped out for a quick trip to the shops.

She certainly had given him a lot to think about on his ride back home.

When he had let himself in, expecting to find Harry still asleep on the sofa, instead he saw the blanket folded neatly and set on the end of the sofa, the spare pillow sitting atop it. When he checked the kitchen he found it spotless with a faint scent of lemon bleach cleaner. The plate from the fridge was gone, presumably eaten and cleaned then put away before the man had left.

When he fixed himself a glass of ice water and went to his chair to read for a while before deciding on dinner, he found the mask Harry had brought with him sitting on the coffee table with his original note. Only it had the other man's distinctive chicken scratch scrawled beneath his message about the food.

"Thank you for last night, and breakfast," it read. "Sorry for imposing on you."

Steve put the note back on the table and picked up the mask instead of his book. He sat, holding it on his knee as he looked at it, thinking back on his day.

Maybe there was something to what Peggy had said to him before the Alzheimer's made itself known again. He was relieved his friend was alright. He was glad that the man had felt so comfortable and safe to confide in him as much as he had during the night. Surprised, yes, that Harry had come to him for comfort when he could have gone to literally anyone else that he was certainly closer to. But ultimately he was almost proud that Harry had sought him out specifically. And now here he was, an entire day spent with the man on his mind.

Steve couldn't have imagined himself in this situation before. Certainly not back then, back when there were, apparently, evil wizard assassins coming to kill him. Back when Harry hadn't even known him, but still came across time to protect him. To protect the future from unraveling. He could have removed himself completely from Steve and Bucky's memories, but he hadn't. He'd only tried to hide magic from him. Had put protections on him even though he knew for a fact that one day it wouldn't be enough to help him scrape by with his life. That the plane was still going to go down with Steve on it.

The rational part of his brain reminded him that he was in love with Peggy still. That he was attracted to her as she was, and that he found the female form far more pleasing. But this niggling little voice in the back of his head asked him if he was sure about that. Maybe he just hadn't found the right dance partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...... the angst in this made me sad. So I wrote another fic/drabble thing that goes on alongside parts of "It Was a Slow Year". It's basically just stuff that didn't quite fit with the flow of the story, but also went on around part of the time. It's got some angst, but that's unavoidable with some of the stuff that was going on in "It Was A Slow Year". I'll be posting it as a bonus chapter at the very end. So.... 7 chapters total I think.


	5. Mid to Late November 2013

Harry had snuck into the tower when no one was looking. At least, he thought no one was looking. Within an hour of his return, Hermione and Ron had called him. Thankfully the pair of them had gone out to one of Tony's country estates in Maryland to visit the family and check on the other refugees he had sent last September first. Tony himself had threatened to kick his door in if he didn't show up in the penthouse. So Harry instead went to the common use floor for the team. It was there he found Bruce and Natasha. He'd learned Clint was off in some classified location, but would come if called for a "world ending event".

Rhodey had appeared soon after, telling him he was tasked with dragging Harry upstairs. And then proceeded to sit and have a chat with Natasha while Bruce sat watching TV with Harry. "God I miss telly," he'd said. "all those stupid little commercials. Like this one," he said, pointing at the large flat screen. "I'll bet everything in that film is going to be a load of hippogriff shite!"

"Of course it will! It's about Tony!" Rhodey shouted from the table. "It'll be bullshit whether it's true or not!"

Harry turned in his seat to peer over the back of the couch at Rhodey and Natasha. "So I heard Thor's back on Earth. Has he popped up here yet? I'd love to meet him. Ron's a huge fan of his."

Natasha turned to him. "I thought he would be more a fan of yours?"

"Not a chance. He knows the real me. And I'm a right bastard at the best of times. Plus, he's seen me naked. Kind of hard to idolize someone as a super hero when you've seen them shivering in their birthday suit-"

"why were you naked?"

"To jump in a frozen pond of course."

"And why would you-"

"To get a magical sword."

"Are all your answers going to keep getting more and more ridiculous?"

Harry shrugged as the movie he was watching came back on. "In my world, the truth is always ridiculous." He turned his attention to Bruce with a big, bright smile. But the scientist noted, not for the first time that day, it seemed a little forced. "More popcorn my angry friend?"

"Yeah. Sure."

Rhodey's phone started to ring. He checked it. Rolled his eyes. "It's Tony."

"Yeah... I kinda told JARVIS not to pass any messages to me. It's my first day back and I really don't feel like dealing with him right now."

"He's on his way down."

"Good. Tell him to bring more popcorn."

**o0o**

It was a cat and mouse game for days until Tony finally caught up with Harry in Brooklyn at his apartment. "We need to talk." And then Harry had slammed the door in his face. He didn't lock it though, so Tony had strolled right on in.

"What the hell?"

"I've been busy."

"Bullshit."

"So you know my schedule every minute of every day?"

"You disappeared from the helicarrier and didn't show up again until the next day. Where were you?"

"I'm sorry. Do I have to run every little thing I do by you first?"

"You do when you ask me to build a damn death machine!"

"So you did build it?"

"No. But it's been designed and ready to go into production."

"Then what are you waiting for? I assume you... saw some things... when you hacked into SHIELD again."

"Harry-"

"Tony."

"Reconsider it. If I build this and I have to use it... what you're asking me to do goes against everything I stand for. I make these things to protect people-"

Harry rolled his eyes. "And you'll be protecting people by stopping me if it comes to it."

"Please."

"You saw what happens."

"Yeah, and I saw what happens after it, too. You don't heal right away. If I... If I lock you in an anti-magic cell the wounds won't heal. Your bones will stay broken. Your internal organs will shut down and-"

"And I'll die." He shrugged. "Hopefully."

"Dad-"

"Oh, so I'm dad now all of a sudden."

"Damn it! Listen to me!"

"I am and it sounds to me like you can't do it! So I'll find someone that can!"

"You know there's no one else!" Tony shouted at him, fighting himself to keep from taking a swing. "I know you're scared, but there has to be another way to deal with this. Maybe... maybe some ritual that can siphon off some of your magic before you explode. Or we can set you up a target range or something to blow off steam. Throw out some-"

"There are ways but they're not... I have to kill something, Tony. There is no safe way to offload this power I have. Now, if Voldemort or fucking Hitler strolled through that door right now it wouldn't be a bloody problem because I could just unleash the hounds of hell upon them, but that's not going to happen. I can't rely on there always being some evil asshole I can take it out on."

"Is that the _only_ other way?"

"No. But the last time I tried that one... I paralyzed the poor bastard. They just don't make Royal Marines as sturdy as they used to."

"Was that a sex joke?" Tony asked, thrown off by the sudden shift in the conversation and tone. "Are you- Did you just try to diffuse the conversation with a-"

Harry couldn't help himself. He laughed. "Well, you asked."

"But you didn't kill him."

Harry smirked, knowing it was just going to make Tony feel even more uncomfortable. "Oh he died alright. Only little deaths. And repeatedly through the night."

Tony screwed his eyes shut and tried to will the mental image away, but it just wouldn't go. "Oh God! It's stuck in my head! Please don't tell me he was-"

"Blond and handsome. With a real pert arse you could bounce a sickle on. His eyes were the wrong shade though. Too close to grey than blue."

"I'm not hearing this!"

"And his voice was too... British sounding."

"Dear God just stop!"

"I'm going to keep describing my past sexual partners, most of whom resemble a certain star spangled boy scout you used to have posters of, until you either give up trying to convince me to reconsider or you have a complete psychological break. Take your pick, my darling son."

"You've lost your God damned mind!"

Harry shrugged. "So that was Blane. There was this one guy, Steven Trevor. I met him back in the eighties. I didn't realize I had a type yet. He was American. A pilot even. Not so broad as I like but-"

"Will you stop!"

"Rather creative in bed. Taught me most of what i know, actually. We got on well together, and then I shattered his pelvis. Nasty business that."

Tony grit his teeth and planted his ass at Harry's dinner table. Stubborn as both his fathers combined, he refused to give an inch and instead endured an entire afternoon of his biological father recanting every single one of his past, and very brief, relationships and many one-night stands.

And as he did so, he finally understood what it was like for Pepper Potts, finding a new woman in his bed nearly every night and, with a smile, taking out his trash for him. He gained a whole new respect for the woman he loved, and vowed to find the biggest, most expensive rock he could find that would fit her finger when he left this den of his father's sin.

**o0o**

Tony did not build the suit. But he did keep in on file, against his better judgment. It was the only compromise he could wiggle out of Harry and keep his sanity intact.

The subject of the suit was not brought up again, and neither were Harry's many horrifying sex stories. Though, he did learn that most of them were made up for shock value after a lengthy talk with Hermione.

Harry had used the same tactic once before on Ron when he'd asked for Harry's ham glaze recipe. It was the only thing the man could think of to get Ron to go away and not spoil the secret ingredient.

"It was paprika," she'd told him. "And apple juice instead of orange because Fred had an orange allergy even though George didn't."

When the two men met again the morning before Thanksgiving, they agreed to a truce. Harry wouldn't try to shock him to death with sex stories, and Tony would stop asking him to reconsider the existence of the plans for the _Marauder_ suit.

**o0o**

Harry had spent two days in the penthouse kitchen simply because it was bigger and brighter and had lots more ovens.

He had enlisted the help of various nieces and nephews in the dinner prep for Thanksgiving, reminding them it was a wholly American holiday so please, no Christmas puddings. And yes we use turkeys for this. And apples for that. And don't pick the marshmallows off the casserole!

"Do we really need seven Turkeys, Harry?! Really?!"

"Have any of you actually sat and watched both Bruce and Ron at a meal together?! No! Then please do shut up and trust my judgment when we throw Hugo and Teddy into the mix!"

Somewhere, the phrase "He's worse than grandmother Weasley," was tossed around a few times between calls of "Potato team! How are those spuds coming?!" and "Who's on the green bean casseroles?! We need more mushrooms! Go! Go! Go! We don't have all day!"

Pots and pans zipped about from table to counter to oven to counter to sink. He ran that kitchen like a well oiled machine between cups of coffee and quick bites to eat. Anyone that dared venture in was assigned a task.

Tony made the mistake of seeking him out to ask about snacks and was stuck gutting a pumpkin for some reason. The entire time he was asking anyone that would listen, "How the hell did I end up doing this?"

Things had started to settle down, though, a few hours before dinner time. The children that had been helping in the kitchen had been run off and told to go clean up. A few adults had remained to help carve, cut, and garnish.

Harry had finally gotten the last turkey out to sit and rest. The others were carved and sorted into white and dark meat and already in the catering trays Harry had insisted they use. He was finishing up the last of the trimmings as this one was meant for the main table when he was spooked by a sudden and unexpected voice behind him.

"You look tired."

"Steven! When did you- I didn't know you were-"

"Hermione invited during medical yesterday, actually. She was surprised I wasn't already invited."

"Oh. Well, Tony dealt with invitations and, well, see, it's mostly extended family and-"

"So maybe I should leave?"

"No!" Harry exclaimed quickly, holding up grungy, food covered hands. "I mean, no. I'm glad you came. The more the merrier. As you can see, I've enough to feed an army."

"I can see that. Are you going to need any help, uh, getting it-"

"Of course not. Magic is mighty handy when feeding the masses. I'm going to be using a trick I learned in the school kitchens. My house elf taught it to me years ago. We've used it every Christmas since we had to start holding dinner out under a tent in the yard."

Steve stood with his hands in his pockets, uncertain what to say or do next when Harry opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a beeping timer. "Oh! The rolls! Excuse me," he said, turning and rushing to one of the ovens, yanking it open and reaching in without even using an oven mitt.

"Merlin's blazing balls that's hot!" he shouted, shaking his hand out furiously as Steve rushed forward to look.

"Are you-"

"I'm fine. It'll heal in a few minutes. It always does. Here," he said, holding his wrist with one hand. "See. Fading already. Now hand me a mitt."

"Can't you just, you know," he said, miming a wand wave. "You are a wizard, right?"

The color drained from his face briefly before he turned bright red and nudged him aside to wave his hand at the tray of rolls inside the oven. The tray came out, the oven closed, and each dinner roll joined the group of baskets full of more rolls.

Steve couldn't help laughing a little. "You forgot you had magic again didn't you?"

"It's been a long day."

"Is it almost ready?"

"Yes. I just need to-"

"Go get cleaned up. I'll tell everyone you haven't blown up the kitchen and we'll get to eat soon, okay."

Harry hesitated a moment, but relented and started to leave, but stopped and looked back at Steve. "I'm glad you're here."

"Where else would I be on Thanksgiving?"

Harry smiled, really smiled for the first time in a long time. "Jersey."

"Jersey?"

Harry nodded. "Uh huh. Trying to enlist and failing the physical. Again."

"Are you so sure?"

"Absolutely."

Steve shook his head. "Staten Island," he replied. "And I never made it to the physical. They took one look at me and wouldn't even hand me a form."

"I bet you hung around for a while anyway."

"You wouldn't be wrong about that. And you're stalling. Go. Before the army revolts against the cook. And you know how cranky Bruce gets when his blood sugar gets low."

And with a smile and a pop, Harry was gone. Steve shook his head and left the kitchen to confront the mostly red headed hungry masses that had sent him in believing Steve would be the only one that wouldn't get blasted back out of the kitchen.

Well, he mused, they weren't wrong.

**o0o**

Dinner went... surprisingly well considering how many people were there. He'd met so many people that were introduced as one of Tony's cousins, then their kids. And even some of THEM had even younger kids. It was... a sea of red and after a while was pretty hard on the eyes.

The food was going fast and the various drinks were flowing freely. Pockets of conversations formed around the open floor of the penthouse. One group would drunkenly break into song while another would suddenly burst into laughter. Steve managed to find a semi-quiet corner and was surprised to see Bruce hadn't disappeared after he'd eaten his fill. Then again, he had a drink in his hand and the bottle on the table was a lot like the ones he'd seen nearby the night he found out Grim was actually his long lost friend Harry.

"Are you okay to be around this many people?"

Bruce held up his glass. "God bless the wizards," he said. "And their drinkable napalm."

"I'll take that as a yes."

Natasha swung by at one point with her phone, putting it on speaker so Clint could wish them a happy thanksgiving from... well, no one really knew for sure where he was. And with one look from Nat, they knew better than to ask.

"Where's Grim, I wanna ask him something," they heard from her phone as she sauntered away in search of Tony instead.

Eventually it got to be a bit much for Steve, and he went outside to the balcony to get some fresh air.

"Fancy seeing you out here."

He turned his head to the side and spotted Harry in the corner of the railing, a red plastic cup in hand. "Don't worry, boy scout. It's just pumpkin juice. Someone has to be the designated driver tonight."

"Thought you'd be inside with your family."

He shrugged and took a sip. "You can only take so much of the whole Weasley clan at a time before you start slinging curses around. Guaranteed tonight's going to end with a duel on the roof. Maybe the bathroom if Teddy's feeling particularly wolfish tonight."

"He's not a-"

"No, but his father was. So he gets a bit... growly sometimes. But no, his bites aren't contagious. Just really itchy for about a week or so."

Steve laughed at the absurdity. Harry laughed because he knew he sounded like a crazy man.

"Are we okay?" Steve asked him when he'd managed to stop laughing.

"Why wouldn't we be?"

"You left without a word."

"I left you a note."

"You weren't imposing," he said. "I was hoping we could talk some more when I got back."

Harry didn't respond. He only stood, watching him and drinking his juice. So Steve continued. "I went to see Peggy that day."

"How is the old girl? I haven't been by yet since I got back-"

"So you do visit her?"

"When I can," he said. "She... helped Tony find me after Howard and Maria died."

"She said you went to school with one of her nieces."

"Oh?... Well... Yes. I did," he said, glancing towards the sliding doors.

Steve shook his head and sighed. "I didn't really need to see Hermione yesterday," he said. "She's done as much as she can with the research and already sent her report."

"I know," Harry said. "She told me what she discovered after she shouted at me for about ten minutes straight about the proper use of household charms and spells and the things not to use them on. Human beings came up quite a lot in her tirade." He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "For what it's worth, Steven, at the time I felt... I mean, I thought... I knew I couldn't change your fate. But I could at least make sure you survived until then. Knowing what I know now, I'd still do it. Probably put a little less power behind it, but I'd still do it."

"Why me?"

"Why not you? What makes you so damn disposable? I have fought giants. I have faced down madmen and angry dragons. Hell, I've been tortured damn near out of my mind, but I will never be half as brave as you are. I have always had my magic to protect me. All you ever had before Captain America was your unshakable moral fiber, sheer determination, and mulish stubbornness. I don't care that you're built like a bloody lumberjack now. To me you'll always be scrawny, angry little Steve who is more honorable, more honest than I could ever hope to-"

His screed was cut off suddenly. When he regained his senses, he shoved the other man away. "Have you lost your bloody mind?! What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"Throwing myself on a live grenade."

"What?"

"You're not the only one who's friends always say is reckless," he said, staring down at confused and slightly angry green eyes. "And now I get why you ran off and locked yourself in a bedroom."

"Well first of all, you get an A for effort but a solid C on technique," Harry said, running a hand through his hair and trying not to drop his half-empty cup of pumpkin juice. "Well you can't be drunk because alcohol... Wait. Have you had any of the Ogden’s? Or the Jamaican Fireball?"

"Is that what Bruce is drinking?"

"Yes."

"Then no."

"Okay. Second of all, you're not gay. And this doesn't happen. So, you've been slipped a love potion. Have you had control of your drinks all night? Never left your sight?"

"Harry-"

"Steven don't. Someone is clearly playing a prank on you. Or me. Possibly both."

Steve burst into laughter. "Jesus. Are you really this dense?! No I've not been given anything! I thought you might have after I spent all day thinking about you. And talking about you when I went to see Peggy! Why do you think I went to see the only person who really knows how my body works?" He exclaimed. "Besides, even if someone did give me something, it'll burn through my metabolism too fast to take effect. Just like alcohol."

Harry continued to stare at him in confusion. "So you did that because-"

"Because you wouldn't shut up and let me get a word in," he said. "And for my own curiosity."

"Oh Merlin. You're curious. Bloody hell. I am NOT your experiment-"

"Harry you're doing that thing where you won't let anyone else talk again."

Harry glared at him. "And I'm going to keep doing it. It's called talking."

Steve shook his head and turned to lean back against the rail. He crossed his arms over his chest and turned his attention to the party going on inside. "This is not how I imagined tonight going when Hermione asked me to come."

"Sorry to disappoint you, boy scout-"

"Why are you like this?"

"Like what?"

"Angry. I thought you of all people would be thrilled."

"Because you picked me to experiment with and see if you like blokes after all? Yeah. Real honor there mate. Of all the nights to stay bloody sober..."

"Will you let me talk."

"Go right ahead. You fought to keep it a free country. But that doesn't mean I have to listen."

"Harry-"

"What?"

"I let you talk for hours, keeping me up all night because that's what you needed. Let me have just five minutes. It's the least you can do."

Harry looked at his wrist. He wasn't even wearing a watch. Then, he set his cup down on the railing and sighed. "Fine. But if I don't like what I hear, I reserve the right to ignore you the rest of the night."

"That's fair enough," Steve replied, drawing in a breath and attempting to put his thoughts in order. Once he'd figured out what he was going to say, he started to speak again. "This... isn't something I ever considered for myself."

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes. "You've said that before. In the forties."

"And it still makes me uncomfortable," he said, then quickly added when Harry started to open his mouth to interrupt, "but not if it's you. Specifically you. It's been pointed out to me by the only other person I've ever felt this way about that every time your name comes up in conversation I sound like a lovesick fool. In Peggy's words, I sound like Howard after he met Maria."

"Oh you really don't want to make that comparison," Harry sniped.

"Look," he said, uncrossing his arms and turning to face Harry again. Harry who was staring at him without giving anything away on his usually expressive face. "I don't know if how I'm feeling about you could be anything, or go anywhere at all, but I'm willing to try and find out. I can't promise you anything more than that."

Harry frowned in concentration before responding to him. "I thought it was considered unnatural."

"So is magic," Steve threw back at him, echoing their conversation in the disastrous aftermath of Harry's stolen kiss years ago. "Hell, so am I for that matter. Should I remind you one of our good friends is a giant green rage monster sometimes?"

"Currently a drunk giant green rage monster," Harry commented with a straight face, nodding towards the door where, sure enough, they could see a large green man in stretchy purple pants sitting in the now broken chair where Bruce had once been. One of the wizards had taken up a seat near him and pulled out a wand, enlarging the man's glass to fit his and and adding more liquor. "Don't worry," Harry added. "Hulk is a happy drunk. He's just happy he can even get drunk."

"Yeah..." Steve said. "But my point still stands. Any other excuses?"

"Just one. What do I do when you figure out this isn't what you want? I can't just wish these feelings away. Circe knows I've tried. Every damn day since I came back to my own time I've tried. But my damn Patronus just won't change into anything else."

Steve shrugged. "Honestly Harry I don't know. But isn't a little hope better than none at all?"

"Better to love and lose than never at all?"

"If it helps you think of it that way."

Harry chewed his lip and gave a slow nod. "Let me think about this. I mean really think about this."

"A chance to figure this out, whatever this is and wherever it's going, is all I ask."

Before the wizard could say anything else, there was a loud crash from inside, followed by laughter and shouting. When they looked back towards the door, a wizard with rapidly color changing hair was using magic to levitate the Hulk.

Harry rushed inside, with Steve right behind him. "EDWARD THEODORE LUPIN! YOU PUT THAT HULK DOWN!" Harry shouted at his godson.

Tony laughed, but didn't put down the camera. "Someone write that down! I want that on a t-shirt by the end of the night!"

**o0o**

Steve spent the night on his floor in the tower, and was planning to ride his bike back down to DC after breakfast the next day.

Planning was the operative word.

He met Ron on the landing of the common floor, and could hear a fight breaking out beyond. "What-"

"Hugo and Teddy. It happens every time we all get together."

"STUPEFY!" shouted one angry man.

"Oi! That was my wife you two faced-"

"Best just head up to Tony's or out for breakfast. This could be a while."

"Yeah... I think I will. Thanks for the warning."

"No problem mate. The family kind of agreed to adopt you last night so it's only fair to give you a heads up and keep out of trouble."

"Yeah... sure," Steve said, turning to get back in the elevator. When the doors opened, he saw Harry standing there in an oversize t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. they stared at each other a moment before Steve stepped aside to let him pass.

"Have you seen-" Harry started to ask Ron, but before his oldest friend could answer there was a howl coming from beyond the landing. "Nope. Not today," he said and went back in the elevator, joining Steve.

"Happen often?" Steve asked as the doors closed.

"Those boys are... Hell I don't even remember why they do it. I don't think even they know anymore."

"How long have they been doing that?"

Harry puffed out his cheeks and made a hissing noise as he thought. "Oh... since they were boys. Now that I think of it," he said, hitting the button for floor 71. "I think it might have started over a chocolate frog card."

"Chocolate frog?"

"Exactly what it sounds like. A frog. That hops and everything. But made of chocolate. Wonderful treats. They all come with a collector's card of a famous witch or wizard. Gives a little blurb about them at the bottom. I've got about four or five by now."

"Are they hard to get?"

"Merlin no. You get one with every frog."

"So you've only had four or five?"

"No. I'm ON four or five. It's supposed to be quite an honor or so I'm told. My first one was for winning the Tri-Wizard tournament at 14. My second was part of a propaganda campaign against me calling me Undesirable Number 1. Those are the rare ones. Worth a mint because most of them were destroyed after the war." He would have shoved his hands in his pockets as the awkward silence started, but he had none. So he tapped his fingers against his thighs to keep his hands busy.

When he couldn't take the silence any longer, he turned to Steve, who apparently had the same idea because they both started talking at the same time.

"You first."

"No, you first."

"No, I insist."

Harry shut his trap and refused to speak again, waiting for Steve to get out what he was going to say. Steve had the same idea since he wasn't willing to say anything either. The elevator dinged. The doors opened to the landing outside the doors to the rest of Harry's floor.

The wizard sighed. "You want to come in? I haven't got anything to eat since I've been staying in Brooklyn since I got back."

"We could go out for breakfast if you want."

"Uh... Yeah. Okay. Just let me, I need to, this shirt's too bloody big."

"Should I wait here or-"

"No no. Come on in," Harry said, waving his hand towards the door. The locks disengaged and it swung inward. "I should warn you though, the family left it in quite a bit of a mess and I've not been up for long so I haven't had time to clean and I'll just go change then shall I?" he led the way inside, and it looked.... like a disaster area.

Harry carefully stepped around piles of blankets and lumps of.... who knows what. "And if something moves!" he called back. "Don't touch it! It doesn't know where you've been!"

"Shouldn't that be the other way around?!" Steve called back to the man who disappeared behind a door that slammed shut behind him. He returned around fifteen minutes later with damp hair, a Hawkeye themed t-shirt, and jeans.

He smiled. "Other way around... yeah, you'd think that. But... it is what it is," he said. "Lead the way, Casanova."

**o0o**

They didn't go far. Just a few blocks to one of the overpriced cafes Tony liked to frequent when he wanted to be seen out and doing human-like things after being stuck in the lab for weeks on end.

They were sat at one of the tables near a window in the crowded place. And the waitress was a star struck college girl every time she came near the table. Glancing over her shoulder or around a customer to see her famous guest. And Harry was chopped liver.

While they waited for their drinks and breakfast sandwiches, Harry was toying with a napkin, twisting it around into various odd shapes. "I thought about last night," he said.

"Should we be talking about that in a place like this?"

"Oh, I threw up a privacy spell after that vapid girl took our order. All they'll hear is low gibberish. You can thank my old charms professor for that one," he said. "As I was saying, I gave some serious thought to what you said last night."

"And?"

"And... I think... it might be in our best interest-"

"You're going to say no aren't you?"

"No. I mean, no I'm not saying no. I'm saying, we should be very careful and really consider our situation. We are super heroes. This has great potential for a scandal not just among the muggles- er- no-maj. But also among my people. In your world no one knows who Grim is. In mine, everyone knows. It was kind of the point of me joining the team and using magic in front of your sort after all."

"I thought it was because it's better than prison."

"Well, there's that, too. But in all seriousness Steven, we both have enemies out there. How many times has Pepper been placed in danger just because she's seeing Tony?"

"I'd like to think we can take care of ourselves if things get bad."

Harry nodded, dropping the privacy spell long enough for the girl to ogle Steve when she brought them their breakfast order.

"Can I get you anything else, Captain Rogers?"

"I'd like some extra sugar please love," Harry said, knowing she wouldn't even hear him. So he decided to play with it a bit. "Oh, and your soul. It'll pair nicely with this bacon croissant. Could you also buy me a car? Ta, thanks."

"Harry," Steve said in a warning tone, then turned his attention to the waitress. "A little more sugar wouldn't hurt," he said. So she turned to a nearby table, grabbed a sugar shaker, and set it on the table in front of him. "Anything else?"

"The souls of your unborn," Harry said sarcastically.

"No. That's all thank you miss," Steve said, giving Harry a look that screamed knock it off.

"If you need anything else, sir, my name's Kelly."

"Oh joy. Her name's Kelly."

Steve gave an embarrassed smile. "thank you Kelly. I'll keep that in mind."

The girl nearly squealed after he said her name and left them to return to the counter where some of the other waitresses were waiting.

"Hail Satan!" Harry called after her before he broke into giggles and raised another privacy charm. "What? That was funny and you know it."

"Do you have to do that?"

"She was drooling all over you. I have every right to be jealous."

"That wasn't jealous. That was downright disrespectful."

"Same thing," Harry said, doctoring his coffee. "I promise I won't do that all the time. But come on, to her I wasn't even here. Because I'm not important or famous here. Now if we were in say... London. To the bar I took you to when we went to visit Diagon Alley, then it'd be reversed perfectly."

Steve took the sugar and added some to his coffee after taking a sip. It was a little too bitter for his taste. "I doubt that."

"Doubt all you want, pretty boy. But the day will come when we'll see who's right. In the meantime, I promise not to be mean to your fan-girls unless they give me a darn good reason to be."

"That's the best I can hope for isn't it?"

"Probably, yeah. Now about keeping this quiet until we, well, see if it's going anywhere..."

Over the course of breakfast the two of them hashed various concerns they both had and how to work around them. The most obvious had been about telling the team. Harry had no problem with it except when it came to Tony. Steve noted he became very cagey when Tony's name came up. They decided that maybe they should wait to make sure it lasts longer than a month before letting the others in on it. Eventually, Steve shook his head and smiled in exasperation, then reached across the table and put his hand over Harry's. "You're worrying over things that might not even happen. Let's just stop and see where things go. You know, like everyone else in the world."

"You're right."

"Of course I am. I'm Captain America."

"That doesn't even make any bloody sense."

Steve smirked and pulled his hand back. "It doesn't have to," he said. "I'm Captain America."

Harry stared at him, lifted his cup to his mouth but didn't take a sip. He set his cup back down and frowned. "Sweet Morganna, Merlin and Circe. You've discovered memes haven't you?"

Steve just smiled and lifted his cup. "I don't get that reference but I don't have to because-"

"Oh God what have I signed up for."

"I'm Captain America," Steve finished.

"I'm going to kill whomever showed those to you."

"My favorite one so far has been about the tights I fought the Battle of New York in."

"It was Teddy wasn't it? I swear to God I'm going to kill that man."

"If you think those are bad, have you seen the ones about Tony yet?"

"Are you kidding? Pepper and Happy made most of those."

The two of them spent another few hours in that cafe, ordering lunch when the time came before heading back to the Tower.

Steve didn't make it back to DC until the second day after Thanksgiving. And he took a Tupperware container full of left over turkey with him.


	6. December 2013

The morning of December first, Agent Grim reported for duty bright and early to oversee how some of his newest recruits from WARD were fitting in with the rest of his team. As it happened, fellow Avengers Black Widow and Captain America were dealing with some of their own.

Rather, Black Widow was wiping the floor with all of them as Cap stopped the show long enough to point out what they did wrong and to correct their maneuvers.

It was the same routine for days until on the fifth, while sitting down to lunch with Natasha and Steve, Harry received a call from Coulson. His team was being sent out to deal with a situation in France.

"Well, there goes lunch. See you guys when I get back from the milk run with the rookies," Harry's distorted voice said through the Obscurius spell. He used it more to freak people out now than to conceal his identity. Plus, it was funny to see the faces of people who didn't know him contort as food disappeared into what looked to them to be a writing black mass of smoke and mist.

Steve was in the locker room alone when the eagle Patronus appeared. It had no message, other than its appearance. Harry had arrived safely in France.

When Steve had returned to his apartment that night, the Patronus was waiting for him in the living room. "Have to cancel the seventh. This looks like another muggle attack on magic. Kids again. It might take a while."

It's message given, it faded away. Steve sighed. "This... is going to be more work than I thought."

**o0o**

Grim was so angry all the glassware in the room was shaking with his fury. "I thought we caught the bastards back in November!"

"That was just one cell, sir," Gilliam said. "It's almost like we got rid of one and more took their place."

"Like a bloody hydra," Jenkins added.

The rattling stopped. "What did you say?"

"It's like a hydra innit? We took down that big cell back in November, right. Around that time Thor trashed old and lovely London Town. And now, we got more than we started with."

Within seconds Grim had summoned up his Patronus. "Go to Agent Coulson first with this message. HYDRA is meddling in magical affairs. Don't wait for confirmation. Second message follows for Tights. Have to cancel the seventh..."

Jenkins and Gilliam turned back to the bodies on the morgue slabs. All girls aged 11 to seventeen. All in school uniforms. All had their wands and their hands broken.

**o0o**

It was a hissing noise at first that alerted him to the fact he was no longer alone. When he looked up he saw the golden halo of Harry's sling ring portal open up in his living room.

"Is it the tenth already?"

"Don't give me that. I had to fight to get tonight off. I mean literally fight. I think I cracked a rib this morning," Harry said, stepping through and closing it behind him. "I'm not too late for our date am I?"

"You're about two hours early."

"Damn international time zones. I can never get the things right."

"Where are you guys currently anyway?"

"Classified. They'll send a Patronus if anything important happens though."

"Maybe we should just cancel tonight."

Harry squared his shoulders. "No. Did you not just hear me say I had to fist fight someone to get tonight off? We are doing this, and we are doing this tonight so help me-"

"Okay. But the movie doesn't even start until seven."

Harry thought it over a moment. "You got anything in the fridge?"

"I think there's some left over chicken from last week."

"Alright. I'll be back. We are going to have a nice dinner together even if it kills me."

Steve chuckled. "Even if it kills you you'll be up and around five minutes later."

"And we'll still have a nice dinner to eat after I do."

Harry was back forty five minutes later with packages in labeled in Portuguese and a bottle of wine.

They never made it to their movie. Which was just as well. Harry took his time cooking in Steve's small kitchen and Steve had caught his interest with a story about the Howling Commandos and the time they met a contingent of wizard mercenaries.

"I met a Potter then. He had a French sounding name though. We just called him Charlie."

Harry thought hard for a moment trying to recall what members of his family were even still alive then. Given the time period, there weren't many Potters around at the time. "Could it have been Charlus Potter?"

"Sounds about right."

"That was my father's uncle! He married Dorea Black, one of the few good ones from that family. I had no idea he was a hit wizard! What was he like?"

"He was kind of mean actually. Unless he was drinking. Everyone preferred him drunk."

"Okay so him marrying a Black makes more sense now."

"Whatever that means. Anyway, only Dum-dum and I could even see the guys in the woods. They weren't too happy about that, but they were surprised I could see them."

"I'd bet. To a magical you were probably glowing like a beacon if they had Auric sight considering... you know."

"Yeah..." he said, then went back to his story about super powered Nazis and weapons they had powered by a device they both knew to be the Tesseract.

It was a good night, and they weren't interrupted by emergency messages or sudden summons. Harry had started to clear away the table, but Steve insisted he do it himself since Harry had cooked.

Just before Harry had left, Steve stopped him and insisted on a way to reach him if he should need to cancel for work. "Only four people on the planet have this phone number," Harry had told him after writing it down for him. "You make number five."

"Who are the other four?"

"Do you have to ask? Tony and Hermione obviously. And Phil. And unfortunately pirate who is very fond of leather," he'd said, then awkwardly leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Now I really do need to go. I've already overstayed and chances are the one I convinced to cover my watch tonight will probably take the chance to pay me back for breaking his nose."

**o0o**

Steve had to cancel the fourteenth.

So Harry went to the movies alone.

Since he wasn't with Steve he decided to give that Tony Stark biopic a try.

Right after it had ended, before he had even fully left the theater, he'd called Tony directly.

"Honestly I haven't laughed that hard at a movie in years. You really signed off on that? Even the sort-of true parts are bullshit!"

By the time he got home, he'd already gone online and left a scathing review of the film just for shits and giggles. It was taken down almost immediately, so he waited a few hours and wrote an even worse one, proclaiming part way through that if this one were removed, he would write a third one even more critical of the movie.

Part way through his third review for the Tony Stark movie, he received a text message from Steve, suggesting they try again on the seventeenth.

**o0o**

Natasha cornered him outside the men's locker room after their debriefing. "You're in a hurry all of a sudden. Got somewhere important to be?"

"I've got a date," Steve said.

"Must be some girl," she said as she followed him in, ducking under the arm of one of the men who'd been on his way out at the same time. "You've been a lot happier lately. Glowing in fact."

"If you have something to say-"

"How long have you been seeing-"

"Will you leave? I'm almost running late."

"Fine. Fine," she said, heading towards the door, then stopped and came back. "Stark's been sniffing around. You canceled on poker night."

"And?"

"He noticed you weren't at work."

"Oh really?" Steve replied, getting annoyed as he pretended to look in his locker for something. "Good for him."

"You're lucky he doesn't have a subscription to _Colonial Witch's Weekly_ ," she said, holding up her phone. "A certain world famous wizard and his mysterious beau made the front page of the digital edition this morning." She grinned. "They make a cute couple."

Steve took her phone and stared at the black and white photograph. "Damn he was right."

"Oh?"

"I owe a wizard ten bucks."

"And I owe a birdbrain twenty."

"Just... don't tell Tony."

**o0o**

On December 23rd Agent Grim went AWOL from a mission in Belgium.

Only one person knew where he was, because Harry had called him to apologize for missing Christmas, but it was vitally important that he sneak into England.

After Steve found out why, he agreed to help cover for him.

Unfortunately on the 24th there was an attack in Belfast at WARD headquarters. Senior Agent Anita Ollivander was a primary target among others. All evidence pointed to Agent Grim, right down a very unique way of dealing with traitors to the cause that had not been seen since the Great Purge after the end of the Second Voldemort War.

Everyone killed had been openly pro-muggle integration, right down to the head of WARD itself. The personnel records were ransacked and the archive torched to prevent anyone from learning what was taken.

The morning of December 25th, the rest of the Weasley Clan that had been stranded in England appeared on the roof of Avengers Tower and were greeted by a bewildered Hermione and Ron who had been woken up early by Steve of all people.

That afternoon, when Grim had returned to his team in Belgium, it was to be arrested on suspicion of conspiracy and terrorism.

Anita Ollivander remained missing despite Grim being able to prove he was not anywhere near Belfast at the time of the attack.

Grim was temporarily suspended from duty on Boxing Day, pending further investigation of the events. And so, he went home. Not to the Tower.

He went to Brooklyn.

**o0o**

It had started as a conversation of what to do for New Years, if anything. And ended with Harry's instance that Steve must see a wizard fireworks display at least once in his life. From there it had spiraled into should they go out for dinner or have a night in before going out to see the fireworks.

Plans went out the window, though, when the fireworks they'd planned to see were canceled at the last minute because apparently someone had planned to use the fireworks to spread a hallucinogenic potion through the air to _enhance the experience_.

So they'd ordered pizza and watched television in Harry's apartment instead.

They couldn't agree exactly on what to watch, so they'd ended up on one of the network stations showing some New Years Eve celebration interspersed with commercials and lots of product placement.

"Haven't they played the same commercial for that Tony Stark movie five times tonight?"

"Eight, but who's counting," Steve said. "Have you seen it?"

"Are you kidding? Of course I've seen it. Twice. The first time to see how much they screwed up."

"And the second?"

"I was depressed and needed a laugh."

"It's really that bad?"

"They get almost everything wrong. Because of course they can't include anything with magic. Because that's an entire other can of worms. They got most of the Iron Man stuff right though."

"Besides magical family members, what else did they get wrong?"

"MIT. He graduated at 15, not 17. They always get that wrong," Harry said, tossing a pizza crust into his box for later. "He went back and audited some physics courses after he found out about magic. He wanted to prove that it's based in science not mysticism."

"Why?"

"Why not? Bruce and I have those debates all the time. What I do should not be possible. Look, this?" He made a pizza crust float for a few minutes. "This should not be happening. And yet, it is. I mean, maybe there's just laws of nature we don't understand yet. How does time travel work? How can I jump from one point in space to another with just a thought and a few words? Why does magic react so violently to vita-rays?"

"That last one is a very good question. Because that hurt. A lot."

"And again, I am so sorry about that," Harry said. "I didn't know."

"Nobody did. Well, we knew it would hurt but I wasn't expecting it to be as bad as it was."

"And now I feel bad."

"Don't. Like you said. You didn't know," Steve replied, taking a sip of his soda. "Maybe everyone is looking in the wrong place to explain magic. Maybe instead of looking at the laws of physics or the universe you should be looking a little closer to home. Biology. Chemistry."

"It makes sense, but it also led to the mistaken belief that purebloods were better than everyone else."

"For centuries, yes. But not today. In the time I was in the ice all the fields of science exploded with new discoveries. We can do so much now because we know all this new information. If someone is born today with all the health issues I had back in the day, they diagnosed sooner and treated faster. Some of them even prevented altogether. We couldn't do that a hundred years ago. We couldn't do that fifty years ago. Using modern science you can map out what makes magical people tick. Maybe even figure out what I am. Am I magic? Am I normal?"

"You? Normal? I hate to break this to you Steven but you were never normal."

Steve laughed. "You're right. I was the picture of perfection just the way I was."

"I always thought so," Harry replied a bit too quickly, causing his cheeks to flush. "I mean, well, you know what I mean. This," he said, gesturing in a vague indication of Steve's current appearance. "This is all just extra packaging. Handsome extra packaging that makes everyone and their grandmother flirt with you."

"Their grandmothers probably still hold war bonds because of me."

The two laughed. "But I know the real Steven Rogers under all that muscle and... fetching good looks."

"And do I know the real Harry Potter under all those layers of masks you wear?"

Harry gave him a small, but sad smile. "It might surprise you, but aside from my life story being far more horrific than I initially told you and having a different name when we met, you've always known the real me. You're one of the very short list who do."

"How many names are on that list?"

"Five. And two of them are dead."

"Lucky me then," Steve said, finishing his drink.

Harry downed his own and got up. "I'll get us some more," he said as he reached for Steve's glass, brushing his fingers with his own as he took it from him.

After a bit Steve looked to the mantle where Harry kept an antique clock before glancing at his watch. It was almost midnight. Harry was going to miss the fireworks on the TV if he didn't come back soon. He got up and, grabbing his empty pizza box on the way, made for the kitchen. He found Harry standing at the window. The glasses were abandoned on the counter next to a partial two liter plastic bottle. He slid his box on the counter, making some noise since he knew Harry didn't like to be snuck up on. "Hey, Harry? You okay there?"

He turned away from the window, immediately going to the glasses to fill them. "Yes, of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You've been in here a while," Steve said as he came closer, taking the bottle away from him and setting it back on the counter. "Are you sure you're-"

"I was just thinking."

"Can I ask about what?"

"Just... things. It's nothing to worry yourself with," he said reaching for the bottle again.

He was stopped when Steve put out his hand, wrapping his fingers around Harry's wrist and turning him around to face him. "Clearly it's enough to worry you. Talk to me. Please. Tell me-" He was cut off when Harry jolted forward, pressing his lips awkwardly against Steve's own. Outside in the courtyard of the apartment complex, someone set off a string of firecrackers.

"It's midnight," Harry murmured after turning his face away slightly. "Isn't that what we do at midnight on New Years?"

Steve blinked down at him before smiling and letting go of his wrist. "An A for effort," he said. "But I'd call that a solid C." He licked his lips, tasting flat soda an pizza grease. Not exactly a winning combination, but-

"Maybe I just need more practice," Harry said softly. "Are you volunteering?"

It was lame. It was cheesy. Steve knew it. Harry knew it. But neither one of them really cared as Harry reached up with his arms to slide them around his Captain's neck, pulling him down a bit more before. "You can put your hands on my hips if you don't know what else to do with them, Steven," he said.

It was awkward at first. So much unlike the stolen moments with Peggy. Or the occasional overzealous dame wanting to give her personal thanks when he'd really just wanted to check and see if his CO was in his office at the time. Where the dames were soft and curvy, Harry was tough. Wiry even. His kiss was more demanding, almost hungry as opposed to the slow, sensual way Peggy used to kiss him. And yet... He wanted more of it. Needed more.

And then- he felt the rough stubble beneath his lips when Harry turned his face away a little. And just like that the moment was broken. He opened his eyes, not having realized he'd closed them at all until now. Until he looked down at Harry, his cheeks flushed and his lips looking almost as if they'd been bitten. Glistening with pizza grease and their shared spit. "We need to stop."

"Harry-"

"If we don't slow down now we might end up doing something we'll both regret later." Harry pulled away, letting one arm drop back down to his side, but the other... the other trailed a hand down Steve's arm from his shoulder to his hand still resting on Harry's hip. "If this is my only shot, I don't want to screw this up."

Steve nodded, letting Harry remove his hand, but instead of letting go he just shifted his grip from hip to hand. "You're right. Best... not to leap before we look."

"That's one way of putting it," Harry said, giving his hand a squeeze as Steve brought his other up to cup Harry's cheek, his thumb brushing against the slight stubble. "Happy New Year, Steven." Green eyes fluttered shut as he quietly reveled in the unexpectedly gentle touch.

"Happy New Year, Harry," Steve echoed back, leaning in to place a small, chaste kiss at the corner of the wizard's mouth. "Come on. If we hurry we can catch the replay of the fireworks."


	7. BONUS: The Lonely Child's Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Growing up neglected and abused, Harry Potter has a soft spot for children from all walks of life, especially those from similar circumstance. He befriends a sickly child in an orphanage, and later struggles with his own inner darkness as muggles begin targeting magical children in the start of a new war between the segregated worlds.
> 
> (TIMELINE PLACEMENT: Late Spring 2013 - September 3rd, 2013.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are mostly bits that were removed from the final posting of the story because they just didn't feel right in the main body and the story I wanted to tell. But I couldn't just throw them away. So here they are collected into one place as a bonus chapter. Enjoy.

"I said no," Grim snapped as he whipped around to cover Clint's back with a chi barrier.

"Neat trick," Clint remarked at the sparking golden dome over them. "Is it new?"

"Picked it up from my friend Wong up on Bleaker Street," he said as Tony once more chattered away on the coms at him.

"Come on! You're great with kids!"

"Tony, is this really the time?" he heard Steve say through a bit of static.

Tony sounded mock affronted. "Between fighting man eating giant scorpions Monday, the killer bikini robots yesterday, and the mole people today I'd say yeah. This is probably the best time for this."

Nat gave a shout, and Clint turned, providing more cover fire. Or rather, he attempted to. "Can ya lower the shield Grim?"

The two stared at the arrow stuck on their side of the barrier. He lowered the shield and the pair of them turned, back to back with Grim still covering him with a mighty fine light show.

Tony's voice crackled over the line again. "One of the kids even wrote a letter. Saying you're his favorite! Said he even had your action figure!"

"I don't have a bloody-" Harry had to throw up another shield as a large buzz saw blade was shot towards the pair of them. "Avengers figure!"

"Yet!" Tony reminded him as the ground shook and the pair of them fell into a crater as a large drill machine broke through the street. "Hulk! Catch the wizard!"

"And I'm chopped liver!"

"And the birdbrain!"

The pair of them were pulled out of the dark with a roar and a large green blur. Grim nearly puked at the sudden jarring motion. They were dropped off back at the edge of the crater as Hulk went on to smash another giant drill.

"You're going," Tony said over the coms as he landed next to Grim to offer a hand. "And I didn't say it was an Avengers figure. If it was, it's bootlegged from China."

Grim sighed. "You did NOT fund knock-off bootleg Avengers merch just so there'd be a figure of me on the market already."

"That's exactly what he did," Natasha chimed in. "Of course he funneled it through a charity or two before sending it on to the factory."

"Okay I might have wanted to test the product before sending it to the masses but you have to admit, the kid's really got their heart set on meeting his favorite new Avenger."

"Fine. Just this once. Now, and I can't believe I'm actually saying this, can we please get back to pummeling the mole people from the Staten Island sewers?"

**o0o**

"When Miss Ollivander told me I'd need to participate in PR stunts," he said, adjusting the collar of his robes. "This was not what I had in mind."

"Do you own anything other than black?"

"You said to be in uniform. This is my actual uniform."

"It's not a funeral, Harry. Magic it up or something. And wear some kind of flashy kid friendly mask, too. This," he said, waving his hand in front of his face to indicate Harry's usual obscuring tactic, "scares the daylights out of them."

"No shit, Sherlock," Harry said, transfiguring a cup into a partial mask, leaving the lower half of his face exposed. "Happy?"

"At least it's not black," Tony mumbled.

Harry rolled his eyes and chanted under his breath. When Tony looked up next, the man was in a pair of dark blue jeans and a black hoodie with the symbol normally emblazoned on his uniform stitched into it with bright green. Almost the same green as his eyes.

"Still black."

"One more complaint out of you and you'll be doing this alone."

"Not alone. Capsicle and the Birdbrain are coming along for the ride."

Harry sighed. "Yippee. Boys day out. And what are we adults going to do when you and Clint go running off and getting into trouble?"

"Complain about the kids blasting rap music and losing their Frisbee in your yard," Tony quipped back.

Harry cracked a smile. "Just make sure you youngsters get us old men back home before our six o-clock bedtime."

"Six o-clock? You really think you should stay up so late, pops? You know you're always cranky when you don't get to bed before sundown."

Harry punched him lightly in the shoulder before making his way to the elevator, locking the door to his floor behind them with only a wave of a hand.

**o0o**

"You didn't tell me it was an orphanage," Harry said after he applied the sticking charms to his mask.

"Would you have come if you knew?"

"I'd have put up less of a fuss," Harry said quietly despite Cap and Hawkeye waiting outside the SUV for them. He drew a deep breath and put on a brave face. "Alright. Lets do this."

He opened the door and climbed out with Tony behind him.

**o0o**

It was... an odd afternoon at New Beginnings Center.

The kids loved Tony showing off his gadgets. A lot of the boys wanted to touch Cap's shield, one of them even being brave enough to ask if he could whack it with a bat to see if it really made that sound they'd heard on the TV.

Grim hadn't said a word other than "Hello," and "Want to see a magic trick?"

That is, until Tony presented him with the little letter writer himself. A small, waif of a boy. Sallow skin and bags that made him look a bit like a raccoon. For this child, Grim had gotten down to eye level with him and he smiled warmly. "Hi," he'd said. "I heard from my friends the Avengers you wanted to meet me. I even heard that you've got a special toy you wanted to show me."

The boy nodded and held up his doll. It wasn't an action figure, but it was one Harry recognized easily enough. It was hard to come by and, if anything, only one type of person would know how to get their hands on one. The little black cape and hood were a nice touch. Harry assumed that was added by one of the matrons of the orphanage for the boy.

"That's a very nice toy. I quite like it. But... may I see it for just a moment?" he asked, holding his hand out for the boy. He was hesitant, but slowly nodded and lay the doll in his hand. "Thank you very much," he said, giving it a look over. "Would you like to see a very special magic trick, Caleb?"

The boy's eyes widened in surprise. "You know my name?"

"Of course I do. What kind of favorite hero would I be if I didn't know the name of my biggest fan?"

The boy nodded and Harry laughed. "Now Caleb, I want you to watch very closely," he said manipulating the doll some before standing it on it's feet on the floor between them. He waved his hand over its head and whispered under his breath an incantation he had used many times on many a Weasley child's toy. The doll's movements were stiff at first, but then it started to move. It danced and it spun, waving it's arms around like Grim often did when fighting the bad guys. After a few minutes, it mimed a yawn and sat down on it's rump before slumping over.

Caleb had watched, utterly enraptured by the dancing doll. HIS dancing doll. When it had stopped, he snatched it back up and held it close before throwing himself at Grim and hugging him as tightly as his weak little arms could manage. "Thank you Mr. Grim," he said earnestly.

At first, Grim had stiffened. He was uncertain how to respond. And then, he wrapped his arms around the boy and hugged him back. "You're welcome Caleb. I'm very glad to have made today a special one for you."

**o0o**

Over the next week everyone noticed how restless Harry was after the PR visit to the orphanage.

Tony didn't feel right with the thought of telling them why. It wasn't his secret to tell. For once he was going to respect the man's privacy. He'd tell the team in his own time, if ever, about himself.

But it didn't escape his notice that JARVIS pinged his phone back at the orphanage twice since their visit.

It also didn't escape his notice that a large sum of money had been anonymously donated to the place and a Gringotts account opened up for Caleb Weatherby, in trust to the Potter Estate.

When he'd cornered Harry two weeks after that, the man had been rather blunt about his dealings on behalf of that boy. "He's got a blood curse. Likely hereditary. I could smell it on him-"

"You can smell diseases now?"

"Only the ones that use death magic, Tony. Treatment for that is expensive. Until MACUSA's social services division find a good family for him, he's going to need someone to pay for that or he will die. What did you expect me to do when I met him?"

"I don't know. Give him an autograph and a selfie?"

"He's a magical child lost in a world of muggles with no one. He is very sick. Sound like someone familiar from the old family stories, Cedric?" he asked. "Everyone forgets Tom Riddle started off just like little Caleb Weatherby. Just a bit of kindness for a kid like that can go a long way."

Tony noted the use of his birth name. He was not going to win any argument with the man on this, he knew that much. "Fine. but you can't do this for every magic kid we might meet."

"No. I won't. But this once, I think it's the best thing I could do."

Before Harry could leave, though, Tony had stopped him by taking his elbow in hand. "I told you he had your action figure."

"That wasn't an action figure. That was the unauthorized Harry Potter fashion doll sold by Zonko's until I sued them out of existence in 1986. How the hell that kid got his hands on one of those-"

"The owner of the orphanage said he had it with him when he arrived after the Battle of New York. It might have belonged to his mother."

**o0o**

Harry was walking alongside his WARD handler, Warren Kline, as they passed through the lobby of MACUSA's main offices, on their way to a meeting with the European ambassadors when they heard a shout.

"Mr. Grim! Mr. Grim!"

Harry stopped in his tracks and turned, quickly transfiguring a pen in his pocket into a mask and replacing his usual black cloud by slipping it on before canceling the spell.

"We don't have time for this we're already running late-"

"Just five minutes, Warren. This won't take long."

The man looked at his most problematic, and currently only, Agent and sighed. "Fine. Five minutes. But if Britain invades France and the Kremlin decides to invade Belgium again it's your fault for leaving them all in a room alone together without adult supervision."

He gave a nod and turned around just in time to feel a small body slam into him and two thin arms wrap around his legs. He pried the boy off him and grinned. "Getting pretty strong there buddy."

"Miss Carpenter's been taking me to a new doctor and I've got this new medicine and look! I don't need the knee things anymore!"

"That's great! I'm so glad you're getting better. One day, maybe you'll be strong enough to be an Avenger, too."

"Let's just get him home first," a woman said, her smile bright before she noticed the insignia on the breast of his robes. It dimmed, just a little. "Caleb-"

"I apologize, ma'am. I met Caleb some months ago and we became fast friends."

"He made my mom's doll dance."

"He did, did he?" The boy nodded. "Well, that was quite nice of him wasn't it?"

"I'll let you get going, Caleb. War Machine, Hulk and I are visiting next month. I'm sure they'd love to meet you."

The boy frowned. "I can't."

"what? Why not?"

The boy looked up to the woman with a bright smile. "Can I tell him?"

She nodded. "And then we need to go."

"I got adopted today!"

"That's great!" Harry exclaimed genuinely, dropping down to give the boy a tight hug. "I'm so happy for you, Caleb!"

He looked to his new mom, absolutely beaming. "Can we get ice cream on the way home?"

"Only after we pick up your sisters from school," she said, holding her hand out for him to take. Harry let him go and stood, not bothering to straighten out his robes.

The boy's smile got impossibly larger. "Goodbye Mr. Grim!" he said, and Harry bid them farewell. As he turned his back to rejoin Warren, he heard the boy ask his new mother, "Can I still write to Mr. Grim and the rest of the Avengers?"

"Of course you can sweetheart."

Hours later back at the Avengers tower, Harry could be found in Tony's penthouse, Harry attempting to teach Tony how to make the one good thing he learned from his aunt Petunia. A four layer sponge cake with fresh blueberries and raspberries mixed with homemade whipped cream sandwiched between each layer, and topped with blueberry compote. And doing it the muggle way.

Attempt to teach him because at every step the two would do something else to make the other laugh, or one of the other Avengers would wander through looking for Tony for one reason or another and stay to watch the show.

It was Pepper that had asked what put Harry in such good spirits that day despite the fact he hated having to occasionally act as a nuclear deterrent at various meetings at the magical congress.

Bruce smiled and sipped his tea at the breakfast bar. "Harry's favorite orphan was adopted today."

Pepper gave a slow, easy smile. But it lasted only seconds before the two men shouted just before everyone present was coated with a thick, viscous layer of warm fruit syrup and cool whipped cream.

"He did it!" both men shouted before breaking down into full bellied laughter.

With no calls to assemble, no mad scientists, alien invasions, giant robots, huge monsters, mole men from the world below, or even the occasional mad dictator to ruin the afternoon and evening, the Avengers in residence and their various visiting friends, spent their time listening to Harry and Tony squabble over who was going to clean up the mess they'd both made. And how no, Tony, you can't hire some poor maid to come deal with this and no, we're not using magic because this is a magic free day.

In the end, Harry had to scourgify nearly everything anyway. But he still made Tony roll up his sleeves, climb a ladder, and wipe as much fruit and cream off the ceiling of the kitchen as he could reach.

**o0o**

It was August 31st, a full month since he'd been assigned to the hybrid team, when the international owl found him with a letter. The handwriting on the envelope was a bit messy, but it did his heart good whenever he would show up to the tower to be greeted by one of the local post owls with a letter from little Caleb.

He'd not had a chance to read it since he'd received it, and decided a good time would be the next morning with his bacon sandwich and a hot cup of what passed for coffee in the backwater district he and his men were camping out in, waiting for their mark to make her move.

He'd just read the first few words when a hummingbird Patronus appeared before him. "This is an official emergency broadcast from the Emergency Response Division of the International Confederation of Wizards," the glowing bird relayed. "The following locations have been attacked in a declaration of war." Harry listened, folding his letter and tucking it into his robes with a deepening frown. The others who were awake and in the warehouse they'd chosen for a base of operations had stopped to listen. Some to marvel at the glowing creature that had appeared before them.

Faces hardened. One man immediately drew his wand and was ready to turn on his heel and take off, but stopped only when Harry suddenly stood.

"Shanghai Institute of Advanced Magical Arts. Durmstrang. Routes One, Three, and Seven into the area known as Beauxbatons," the voice continued listing off names of places or routes of travel. "And Platform 9 and 3/4s, King's Cross, London England."

"Who has family under majority?"

Voices of wizards and squibs spoke up.

Harry nodded as the message began to repeat in another language.

"We can't leave this mission. Not when we're so close to wiping out the AIM cell here. But we can't sit here with our thumbs up our arses and do nothing. Squibs with family at risk, partner up with a wizard heading your direction. The rest of you stay here and continue the mission."

"What you're suggesting is half of us going AWOL, sir. SHIELD-"

"Any volunteers, pick a location and move out. Send a Patronus to me when you've got the situation under control. If you need me directly, I'll be in London."

"Agent Grim!" one of the no-maj shouted. "We cannot split our resources-"

"Sargent Franklin, you're in charge until I return."

"Yes sir!" one of the no-maj responded before the pops of disapparition started. Harry was the last to leave, taking a few other UK raised wizards with him who had volunteered.

The hummingbird vanished, the Patronus sensing no magical signatures among the remaining men in the warehouse.

**o0o**

Agent Grim washed the blood from his hands. His hood was pushed back, the front of his robes caked with blood and bits of bone he had yet to clean away. His mask sat wedged between the wall and the faucet of the sink in the hospital loo.

Tear tracks running down his cheeks as he tried to will the vision of the dead children from his mind's eye unsuccessfully. The unseeing, empty eyes of Rose Weasley-Baker were still staring up at him, her legs yards away from her body while her torso had unsuccessfully shielded a small strawberry blond girl in first year robes.

He scrubbed harder every time he remembered the satisfying snap of bone as he exacted his vengeance on the few surviving attackers they had found. The muscles in his back twitched as he tried to ignore the memory of the last muggle attacker's terrified screams as he turned his brain to goo in search of information on who had done this. On why they had done this. He knew the muggle wouldn't know anything. And yet he'd continued. He'd pushed. He'd... smiled as he essentially turned another living being into a vegetable.

Harry scrubbed harder. He scrubbed until the blood tinting the water no longer belonged to the injured and the bloodied that he'd helped escape. It was his own as his nails clawed at his flesh over and over again as he subconsciously punished himself for the things he had done. But it wasn't enough. It would never be enough. His hands would never be clean again.

**o0o**

The team managed to take down the terrorist cell they'd been tracking for over a week. A few hours later, new orders came through from SHIELD.

They were reassigned.

The ICW wanted to prevent a full scale war with the muggles. WARD had decided to put tracking down the perpetrators of such an atrocity on the hybrid strike team. The milk runs to cut their teeth on were over. It was time to prove they could work together, and work together well. Prove the two worlds could operate side by side.

Sitting on the roof of their commandeered warehouse, Agent Grim drank straight from the bottle of firewhiskey he'd bought after leaving the hospital as he came to a decision on how to move forward from this.

He was a wizard. Not just a wizard - he was Harry fucking Potter, the most powerful wizard in living memory. The modern day motherfucking Merlin. And most of all, whether he liked it or not, he was a goddamn Avenger. It was time to do some avenging.

Harry finished his bottle and threw it off the roof as far as he could, listening for the satisfying crash of glass as it smashed against the pavement. He basked in the warm glow of the cheap firewhiskey in his belly before he cast a quick sobering charm and went back inside to address his men and ready them for the battles ahead.


End file.
